Chuck vs The Hunters
by Mrs.Phineas Bogg
Summary: Lured by an old flame in the CIA who needs his help, Casey is abducted to a private Island. Chuck and Sarah must go on an undercover rescue mission. Team Bartowski gets more than they bargained for when they become the killer's next targets in a series of zany hunting games.
1. Missing

_**A/N: Although I make some minor references to the Episode 'Chuck vs. the Beefcake,' I am not following that storyline. I'm taking it in an entirely different direction with my own adventure. Thanks.**_

**Chapter 1: Missing**_**  
**_

_**-Oo-  
**_

Chuck Bartowski skidded past his best friend Morgan Grimes and waved his hands 'No!' Morgan was about to yank his arm and drag him to the break room for another complaint fest.

"I don't have time to hear about mama's romps or your accidental flasher tactics! I gotta meet Sarah at the cast…_uhh._..Orange Orange! _Yeah!_"

Chuck bustled out the sliding doors before Morgan could utter a word, and the bearded and mystified salesclerk threw up his hands annoyed.

"Ya think my best friend in the world would be there for me, ya know? I'm going through some rough times! He has _no_ idea how serious this relationship with Big Mike so _isn't!"_ Morgan belted out to no one in particular.

He picked up his clipboard with the list of applicants and as he turned, he nearly crashed into Jeff and Lester.

"Don't you guys _ever_ have work to do?" He snarled. Morgan was still teed off over their farce with trying to hire supermodels as the new green shirts.

"I can't believe you nearly got Chuck and me _fired!"_

Lester patted his shoulder with the smarmy, calm manner he mastered. "But it almost worked, dear Morgan. Jeff here just got a little…frisky."

"I wouldn't call recreating 'the scene' from Basic Instinct, _frisky._ More like psychotic, pathetic and…"

"Brilliant, just _brilliant."_ Jeff murmured. Jeff had been staring blankly at the entrance to the store since Chuck's departure.

"I wonder why he's rushes back and forth there so much? It's gotta be those banana smoothies…If I had a woman who used a knife the way she did, I'd want to be cut to pieces."

Jeff scratched what was left of his frazzled hair, flicked his crusted fingers, and went behind the Nerd Herd. Morgan held his head and Lester groaned. He wiped his shirt, and shivered in revulsion.

"Can we just forget that incident ever happened, Morgan? You and Chuck are still here, don't you realize you're both indispensable? Besides, the plumbing will get pretty rusty if Big Mike fires you. " Lester grinned wickedly, but then quickly clamped his mouth shut. It was extremely sore after being tossed into the fence by John Casey and nearly swallowing his apple whole. He was thankful he still had all his pearly white teeth. He hurried away before Morgan could retaliate.

Morgan stuck out his tongue, and then turned to meet the growing line of oddballs that were desperate for employment.

"Up next,_ 'who'_…your name is, _Who Watson?'_ Somebody's parents watched a _little_ too much Abbot and Costello…this dude was probably conceived during a 'Who's on first?' skit." He muttered.

He snapped and pointed at the greasy, middle-aged wallflower to follow him to the interviewing room. For him, it was going to be a very long and arduous day at the Buy More.

**-Oo-**

Chuck punched in the code to enter the Castle chamber and rushed down the stairs three at a time. Five minutes earlier, Sarah had called him with very daunting news…Casey was missing. Chuck had wondered why the big man wasn't at work when he was scheduled. The snarling, rough as sandpaper Casey _never _fell sick unless intentionally poisoned. He only seemed to reserve his time away from the store for even _more_ work related to their clandestine missions. Chuck halted beside Sarah. She was ready to begin a briefing with General Beckman, and neither looked happy.

"Sarah, I didn't like the tone of your voice, what do you mean, Casey's missing? I take it he's not vacationing in the Bahamas?"

"Hello to you too, Chuck. I meant what I said. Casey's _missing_…as in, he may have been abducted."

Chuck gaped at the monitor and back at Sarah. Both she and Beckman wore their stoniest expressions and he held back any snide jokes that would normally fly at these awkward moments. Chuck recognized the fear and concern in Sarah's gentle, aquamarine eyes. Despite the fact that Casey was a hard nose, he was still her partner. They had come to a mutual understanding with a propitious _'I got your back, you got mine'_ rapport.

_"Kidnapped!_ That's impossible! Casey would never allow that happen to him! How? Who? Where? When?" He fumbled.

"If you will calm yourself down, I will explain all that, along with perhaps, _what_ and _why?_ But first I need you to look at these. Hopefully you will flash on something." General Beckman retorted.

The monitors alongside hers flickered and dated pictures of a very tan and striking man in his fifties with coal black hair and lethal dark eyes to match, popped up. There were some surveillance shots of confiscated warehouses full of drugs and powerful arms, and one pleasant image in the middle. The man was lying out on a shady, white and marble veranda. He was slurping a very fruity Mai Tai and about to receive an oily rubdown from one of his fake chested, but gorgeous assistants.

"Who's the man being sautéed by the Mexican Pam Anderson?" Chuck asked, peering closer. Sarah zoomed in for him.

"The man in the picture is Billionaire Damien Augustino Ochoa, one of the world's…"

Neither woman had noticed Chuck's eyes flicker and grow heavy lidded with a sudden flash. He blinked rapidly from an onslaught of violent criminal images. They were laden with vicious gun play, brutal knifings, drug smuggling, and lastly, though out of place, big game hunting. He grabbed a pen and scrap paper from the table and wrote out a long number, then typed it into the system and sent it to Beckman.

Beckman smirked contented. "I assume now you have something else to add, Bartowski?"

Chuck glanced up quickly. _"Umm,_ yeah. I do. The shiny silver cross he's wearing has a foreign bank account number embedded on it. Damien Ochoa was on everyone's hit list since he was a gangbanging teenager in Mexico during the late sixties. He worked his way up to become the most notorious drug dealer in Latin America, yet managed to stay under the radar until 1991 when…"

He paused, unsure of himself, then glanced at Sarah. She gazed at him with a desperate look to continue. Without Casey's menacing, but oddly reassuring presence in the briefing room, they all felt ill at ease and Chuck was about to drop the next bombshell.

"When, young, NSA Agent _Jonathan Casey_ infiltrated his mansion in Acapulco and brought down his vast coke empire. Casey killed Damien's brother and financial advisor, Emilio Ochoa. Damien escaped capture, and went into hiding somewhere in darkest Africa. Now he's back and it looks like he's settled not too far off in the remotest part of Cabo San Lucas…although that picture is from 2002. We can't be sure about the location, could be Cabo."

Chuck blurted out his Intel with speed and authority. He was learning how to control his flashes and make sense of the information the Intersect provided him during his many eight-second intervals of brain freeze. His mind had been working over-time the last month since having been exposed to Fulcrum's own Intel of embedded images. Sarah nodded slowly, taking in his description. She had read into Ochoa's troubled background. The Latin drug lord was always close to the top of the CIA's most wanted, along with the F.B.I, NSA, and every other American Government agency down to the Internal Revenue Service.

"Is he Fulcrum, Chuck?" Sarah asked.

"No…that didn't come up this time, I think he's just on his own as a baddie. Sometimes we have to stray a little from the Fulcrum herd, we don't want our villains to get monotonous…_heh...ahh_, never mind."

Sarah shrugged and turned back to the monitor. "So General, what's our next plan of action?"

"We can't be too sure yet, Agent Walker. There has been no solid evidence to support that Ochoa has made any moves in Casey's direction. Neither can we confirm if Casey is in fact, _missing._"

Chuck felt he had to interject. "I must disagree, General…"

Beckman's eyes narrowed and she folded her arms haughtily. "What is it now, Bartowski?"

Chuck stood at attention. He was the 'King' of the castle at present, and he desired to take some control over the situation…though he would never tell that to Sarah.

"With all due respect, General, Casey has never neglected to contact one of us if he knew he wouldn't be coming into the Buy More. I really think we should go on our gut instincts with this and believe the worst…well…you know…not _the_ worst…but at least that he _is_ kidnapped, and that this Ochoa guy is the perpetrator."

Sarah watched Chuck plaintively, but supported him with a tiny grin. He was certainly maturing in his role as the Intersect and learning to handle his position on the team well. She was very proud of him. General Beckman was surprised with Chuck's tone. She sighed and then nodded firmly.

"Very well, I will have more information on the circumstances in Cabo San Lucas and that secret account within the next hour or so. Agent Walker, I want you to go to Casey's home and look for potential signs of a break-in and report back to me immediately."

Sarah gulped and agreed. She was also fearful of finding Casey dead in his leather easy chair. Chuck grasped her hand when the General clicked off.

"Hey…I _umm_…I can put in for a 'repair call' and come with you. Not that you need me there or anything!" He added hastily, and dropped his grip. "Ya know…just for moral support or something."

Sarah glanced at Chuck gratefully. "You really don't have to, Chuck. I can handle it.."

"No, please! I want to…and I would do_ anything_ to get away from the Buy More and Morgan's stories about his mom and…"

Sarah walked away quickly and put her hands to her ears. "Chuck, I just had lunch."

"Oh, _right_…it is pretty vomit inducing after awhile. Please let me come, I promise I won't be any trouble. I could be of some use."

Sarah laughed slightly. "Chuck, you don't _cause_ trouble, you're the one usually _in_ it."

Chuck smiled apprehensively. "This time the shoe is on the other foot, Casey's always stuck his thick neck out for me."

"Yeah, I know, me too. It's funny, he told me a few days ago that he forgives me for scarring his hand with the Weinerlicious wood sticks. He said it was an excellent fight maneuver he'll be sure to remember. Something's different about him lately."

He understood what she referred to. Ever since Casey and Sarah had thought Chuck was killed in the Nerd Herd car explosion, Casey had used less colorful insults and was all around more complimentary toward Chuck's improving spy skills.

"Maybe he's finally turning over a new leaf… after all, it's a new year, a new _season_…The man's fast approaching middle age, it's a time for reflection and midlife crisis. Hey, you don't think that's what it is, do you? Going through the motions?"

"Maybe, but Casey's not the type to shrivel up under his own insecurities…if he has any. Let's just hope he went on a bender or something and is snoring away at home, okay?" Sarah said optimistically.

_"Exactly!_ Perhaps he hooked up with Roan Montgomery and they went out for a night on the town. Mano a Mano..._heh._..sorta." Chuck mused.

"That's good Chuck, stay _positive_." Sarah remarked to his off beat comment.

Her heavy heart told her something vastly different. Casey was in some sort of trouble, and it was up to them to find him.


	2. Put the lime in the coconut

**Chapter 2: Put the lime in the coconut**

_Dear Lime,_

_Can't believe I am contacting you after all these wasted years! I've missed you very much. I've kept that one picture we took from the beach bonfire on that glorious first night. We did have a beautiful stay. My heart still burns for you. Does yours for me? It let me loose for too long. My pride also kept us apart. We can't pretend that our love wasn't real. Acapulco was like a dream come true for us. To believe otherwise is foolish. We often push our cherished memories in the back of our minds. I do wish to see you again and make up for lost time. If we can't find a way to meet, I may lose my mind. Wen is a good time? Not today of course…but please very soon. I assure you that the years have been kind to my looks. Do understand how much I love you. I acquired your email from old friends. I can't come to see you right now. I put my trust in you so long ago; I still know I can today. I like that feeling. If our passion has died, I know our eighteen-year separation has played a part!_

_Love, Coconut_

Chuck read over the lovelorn email with semi-amusement and confusion. It was dated late from the night before. He was boggled how Casey would even think to leave such a private message in an open window. Sarah roamed the house looking for the clues Beckman demanded, but was coming up empty, until she hit the bathroom.

"Chuck! Quick! Come here!" She called out. "Look at this."

Chuck raced over to her and stopped short in the doorway. He covered his mouth with a gasp. There were drops of blood on the floor and the bathroom was a mess. Toiletries were strewn about and his shower doors had been smashed in. There was no doubt now that Casey was abducted, most likely subdued as he came out of the shower and off his guard. His bathrobe and damp towel were strewn near the toilet.

"This is not good! I'm calling Beckman now." Sarah pulled out her cell phone.

"No, it's not, Casey's a neat freak, if he saw this mess he'd freak…" Chuck grasped her arm. _"Wait! Wait!_ There's something you need to see on the computer first!"

Chuck led her to the console and opened the email. Sarah read it over and glanced at him puzzled.

"Is that message for real? This must be one of Casey's private email addresses, not the Government issue."

"Yeah, I doubt the Government would give him a name like _Acapulcoheat." _Chuck remarked. "Hey...wasn't there a TV show in the nineties with that name? Anyway… The phonetics is a little off. It could be some Spanish chick he met out there in…_oh my God! Wait! _Casey was on the Ochoa case in ninety-one, in_ Acapulco!_ That accounts for the eighteen year difference!"

"That's right, Chuck. This has to be a dummy email, it's probably an old contact…someone undercover."

"Most likely another old flame of Casey's as well." Chuck grinned wily. "It's kind of an odd message. I mean, totally understandable as regards the passion, but I think…"

Sarah waited patiently while Chuck sorted out a few details. She had a suspicion he was going to surprise her any moment. When he banged the console and slid back in the chair happily, she knew he was onto something.

_"Fantastic!_ This is the 'R.T.' cipher!" He exclaimed. "I haven't seen that in years!"

"What do you mean? What's an R.T.? I know what a cipher is, but…"

Chuck sat her down and they rolled back up to the screen. He copied the message and pasted it into a Word document. She watched amazed as he quickly highlighted certain letters until the hidden message read,

_**'NEED HELP CABO O WANTS U CAUTION!'**_

Chuck and Sarah glanced at each other excitably. She nudged him with a smile.

"That's terrific! It all ties in, Cabo San Lucas, the Acapulco case from ninety-one. And 'O' must be Ochoa! Casey must have known we'd come here and left it for us to find! How did you figure this one out?"

Chuck tapped his head. "When I was a kid, I was always into playing detective and stuff. I had a book all about Top Secret codes and how to create them. In the Seventeenth Century there was a Civil war in England. The Puritans captured a Royalist named Sir John Trevanion. He was going to be hung the following morning and received a special letter of comfort from his friend, _R.T. _The guards didn't see anything objectionable and let him read it. The message hidden within was, _'Panel at East end of Chapel Slides.'_ Sir John requested private time for prayer in the castle chapel and they granted it. When his hour was up, they went back for him and Sir John was long gone. No one ever found out who R.T. was either."

"That is a great cipher. It's so simple that it would probably go over Ochoa's head as well. And she even used the one for Sir _John._ So he knew it was meant for him. How does it work exactly? You figured it out so fast."

"It's not hard at all. All you do is pick out the _third_ letter after each punctuation mark and voila! Instant secret message! She probably tried to cover her tracks by making it sound pathetically desperate and in long-winded in somewhat broken English…not to mention the code names."

Sarah pointed to the Internet window. "Let's see if Casey responded, go into the sent folder."

Chuck retrieved it and they read on, almost laughingly.

"Doesn't he sound like the Don Juan!" Chuck said.

_'Dear Coconut,_

_Y__o__u got my letter! I __n__eed a little time to sort things out. It __i__s too long since we last met. Wi__t__h wings on my feet, I'm __w__illing to send for you. Is __i__t true? Is __l__ove that strong for us? Ki__l__led too much time without you in my life. I c__a__n still remember the scent of your skin when it pressed against mine. I a__l__ways fondly recall your sultry caramel eyes and that slow, de__e__p smile when it spread across your gorgeous lips. Pa__r__ting is such sweet sorrow, bu__t __for us it was bitter. I __g__ave your friend Diana a call. Sh__e__ is anxious to know when you'll be coming in. I wa__n__t you to stay with her. Sh__e__ certainly has the room. I w__r__ite this with a bursting heart, I h__a__ve always loved you too. I sti__l__l long to take you in my arms and quench my desires. My __f__ear is that you will not be pleased with the man I've become. If __I__ can just look upon your beautiful face once more, I k__n__ow I will be a happy man. It __d__oes feel a little awkward after all this time, if __y__ou know what I mean. If __o__ur meeting goes well, wo__u__ld you consider taking me back? I promise to be there for you always and to give you the love and respect you deserved._

_I've never been too good at these things._

_Yours, Lime'_

"Lime is very poetic! Who knew Casey had it in him? Well…he is known as _Sugarbear _among some of his…_ahem…_contemporaries. I take it these two were Nilsson fans? Ya know, _'She put the lime in the coconut and drank it all up…she put the lime_…"

Chuck broke into song, then ducked his head sheepishly. "_Uhh_…never mind! Still, if it wasn't coded, this email could have revealed some real hot stuff." Chuck mused. "I wonder how much of this nonsense is the real deal?"

Sarah formulated the hidden message and scooted Chuck aside. She typed it out.

**'ON IT WILL ALERT GENERAL FIND YOU'**

"Well, after _a lot_ of mistakes, this is what I'm getting it's _supposed_ to be. Casey _promises_ he will be there for her, and lets her and us know that he may have screwed up the hidden message when he said he's never been too good with these things. But I think he did just fine. Short and to the point."

"Yeah, he kind of clued her in to his decision in his wording, rather than the codes." Chuck presumed. "Like, _Diana waiting_ is General Beckman, and _killing_ time, the man I've become…you know, it's almost like Casey was shocked into this email and he didn't know if he was writing code or a love note!"

Sarah broke into a smile. "Her description sounds familiar. I think I know exactly who the lovely Coconut is."

Chuck's eyes widened. "Tell me!"

"She's only one of the CIA's most reputable Senior spies…and she taught _my_ seduction class. Her name is Layla Calderon. She _is_ gorgeous, so I don't think Casey was lying in that email. Agent Calderon was able to infiltrate Fulcrum-like groups all across the world in the last twenty years or so. I've learned a lot from her. She must be playing the mole with Ochoa."

"_Wooh,_ maybe they modeled Carmen Sandiego after her!"

Chuck pasted both messages into a new email and sent it to General Beckman's private address. He turned to Sarah with sudden concern.

"What about the blood and all that? We need another briefing. I have a feeling Layla tried to warn Casey as soon as she discovered Ochoa's plans, but the message came too late."

Sarah stood up brusquely and hurried to the door. Chuck shut down the computer system and followed her.

"If Ochoa's got him, then chances are they've taken him to Cabo San Lucas. I think it's time I took a little vacation. You know, to try and sort things out after my boyfriend _dumped_ me. What do you think?" Sarah decided, as she securely locked the front door with Casey's secret code.

Chuck heaved a sigh and put his hands in his pockets. "I think that's just what you need. Only I'm coming with you. Chuck and Sarah desperately need to sort things out _together,_ because they're not getting anywhere stuck in Burbank. Ellie would be ecstatic anyway."

Sarah glared at him. "No way, Chuck. This is too dangerous. I can't risk it."

"I know y_ou_ can't risk it. But I'm my own person and I'm willing to take the risk. Who knows how many flashes I might have? For all we know, Ochoa's working with Fulcrum members." Chuck put his arm over her shoulders. "Don't fight it, Sarah. You need me there. Casey needs us, and possibly Agent Layla is in trouble. Come on, let's get back to the General, and then I have to get back to my cover."

Sarah couldn't disagree with his reasoning, but she looked up at him curiously. "Wait a minute? What cover? You don't have one."

"_Hello_! My _Buy More_ cover, the one where I play a bored and listless twenty-something electronics genius that manages the Nerd Herd? _That_ cover."

Sarah laughed and ribbed him as they walked up to the Nerd Herd car. While they buckled up, she clutched his arm.

"All kidding aside, this mission is _very_ important. Casey's life is at stake."

Chuck gunned the engine and stared ahead bleakly, but there was a deep-set fire in his eyes.

"I know Sarah, and no matter what it takes, we won't let him down."


	3. Ease my worried mind

**Chapter 3: Ease my worried mind**

John Casey wearily opened his eyes. He sharply inhaled the languorous scents of coconut oils, ocean breezes and fragrant blossoms. The left side of his head pounded, nearly rattling his skull. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken such a brutal knock out. It was one he was totally unprepared for, having only gotten the warning fifteen minutes earlier. Strangely enough, he felt exceptionally relaxed. He noticed it was because his half dressed body was situated on a king-sized bed with coral toned satin sheets and down pillows that supported his neck. Yet, he felt something heavy weighing on his neck; it was a sort of tracking device, he surmised, and designed like a dog collar. He decided not to mess with its functions just yet. Whoever it was that knocked him out must have thrown a pair of jeans and boots on him and then dragged him from the courtyard quickly. He refused to give all the credit to just one man. Casey prided himself that it would normally take a small army to get him down.

Casey blamed himself for his abrupt capture. It was pure carelessness on his part, but seeing a message from _her_, had thrown him into a lusty turmoil. Layla Calderon, mostly Spanish, part Indian, Egyptian, Scottish and still somehow American as burgers and fries. She was the CIA's female master of disguise and seductive deception…and she had found him after eighteen years. Casey had been in the NSA for six years when he was handed the Damien Ochoa case file and requested to do a stint in Acapulco in 1991. He was to come in as a cutthroat American drug dealer from New York City. Aside from working on his Brooklynese accent, Casey spent time researching his role and hanging around some of the vilest dealers in that City. It was a real learning experience, but absolutely necessary to convince the highly suspicious Ochoa of his 'good' intentions.

His cover was 'Donny McNeil.' Donny was a young, Irish slumdog working his way to the top of his game with a nose and taste for quality highs. Acapulco was a Paradise, and Donny and his crew were so persuasive they were invited to stay at Ochoa's extravagant hidden mansion in the hills while they sorted out their business arrangements. Ochoa was itching to dip his thumb into the American drug trade and Donny was his ticket to a piece of that big apple pie.

Thinking back, Casey wouldn't have known it was Layla undercover if it had poked him in the eye. She was just that good. He hadn't known her then, but had heard rumors of her infiltration successes, yet she was barely a two-year rookie. Being on the short side, Layla was disguised as an ungainly, fifty-year old Mexican housekeeper named 'Rosa Ramirez.' Ochoa tolerated her because she made some of his favorite Mexican meals to his extreme liking and kept the place immaculate. All his other 'servants' looked like they were from Hugh Hefner's Latina collection of blow up dolls with brains to match.

Ochoa spared no expense to his American guests and gave them the same freedoms he and his men enjoyed. Casey was at his stony best, keeping with Donny's _'all work and no play'_ demeanor most of the time. He chose instead, to hide out in the butler's quarters and plan his ambush rather than get too caught up in the raucous, drug fueled excitement and parties Ochoa was known for. Since he was so 'well connected' to the trade, Ochoa left Donny to his own wiles and expected a heavy pay back.

Casey had to laugh now, despite the pain it caused. Rosa was just downright ugly with thick red-rimmed glasses, crooked and bucked teeth and bushy Frieda Khalo brows. Her figure was lumpy, as Casey later discovered from the phony fat suit parts she wore around the stomach. She must have been dying in the heat. Rosa spoke 'limited' English and puttered around the house to clean at the most inopportune times. Casey realized it was so she could drop her recording bugs near their meeting quarters. She was very shrewd and changed their location daily so they were never discovered.

Casey had learned to better trust his gut instincts on that mission, but he was still unsure of himself back then. He could scarcely understand it, but whenever Rosa was around he was endeared to her like a magnet. He sensed her discomfort while his gaze followed her ample form as she cleaned their rooms and did other mundane chores to housekeeping perfection. Casey didn't know then that she had bugged _all_ the rooms and found out the truth of the NSA's involvement in the sting. He supposed that was when his unusual interest and love for bugging devices had deepened. He had often felt her intense stares as he took advantage of certain luxuries like the swimming pool, gym, and sauna.

When she had little to do, Rosa would roam placidly beside the Olympic sized swimming pool, setting up delicious refreshments and making sure he and the others had fresh, clean towels. She tolerated the scorn and laughter from the scantily clad, sun worshiping bombshells that hovered around Donny and his men almost daily. When the most obnoxious of the bunch got a Pina Colada in her coiffed hair and hot taco fillings down her bikini top, Casey though it was a classic maneuver Rosa handled with grace. It earned her his instant respect. Especially since the scalded vixen was the one who had singled _him _out for spicy siestas.

It was Rosa's candidly soft and golden-brown bedroom eyes that gave her away. The more suspicious Casey became, the more he upped his observations, until one night he decided to do some haphazard spy work. There was yet another fiesta burning the midnight oil and other kicks in Ochoa's grand ballroom, so it wasn't hard for him to sneak away. At the time he felt it was an abnormal fascination and vowed to never tell anyone of his desire to peep into a middle-aged frump's bedroom. What he saw floored him to nearly slipping off the Mango tree adjacent to her window.

Casey's jaw had dropped further and further as Rosa peeled her 'body' to the rug and removed her unsightly facial features to allow the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen gratefully emerge. It was like witnessing an act of nature. She was a stunning bronzed butterfly poking it's way through a ravaged, fat cocoon. He sensed her exhaustion and frustration with the cover as she washed her flawless skin and then ran a thick brush through her long black hair. It cascaded past her shoulders in delicate waves from being pinned up all day in Rosa's frizzy, loose bun. This was her only time for release, and the chance to report her day's findings through a cleverly concealed communicator under her bed. Casey discovered that his cover was blown through the CIA. He had little doubts her handlers had alerted _his _superiors, but he had gotten no word to pull out. He figured they had decided to do double duty with Ochoa.

**-Oo-**

Casey's reminiscing was interrupted by a low voice that sounded throughout the room. It reeked of malice and arrogance and was heavily seasoned with a Mexican accent. Casey glanced ahead of him, and noticed a giant flat screen entrenched into the wall. Ochoa's smug face grinned at him from another room with African decor, animal heads and skins.

"_Buenas tardes, Agent McNeil! Or should I say Casey? I am thrilled to see you've joined me at my island retreat! I know you are going to have a wonderful stay. You notice I didn't restrain you. After your dizziness wears off you will be free to roam around this lovely abode. This room was especially prepared for you. If you look toward your left, you'll see the lavish French windows which lead to the balcony…take a gander."_

Casey rolled up slowly to a sitting position and rubbed his aching shoulder. He stood and walked stilted toward them. As he passed a wall mirror he spied his reflection. It was just as he figured, the left half of his face was bruised from the temple to his broad jaw. A knockout like he sustained would have induced a coma on any other man. Casey immediately thought of the Buy More rejects as the prime examples of weakness.

He lined them up in his head. He started with that doughy marshmallow chunk of a kid that always had chocolate smeared around his mouth like a human smore. Next came the string bean Lester. He was followed by the hairy elf, Morgan, the Napoleon Dynamite wannabee...the nasty geek, Jeff and a host of others, until he envisioned the end of the preposterous line with a close tie between Anna Wu and Big Mike. He surprised himself by not even thinking to put Chuck. Anyone who was going to try and knock the Intersect out like that would have to deal with him first.

Casey sighed loudly and drew open the wide, sheer curtains. He pushed down on the gilded handles and inched his way forward. The view was breathtaking. Casting a sharp glance below, he saw nothing but jagged edged cliffs, and the pristine ocean waves smashed against the serrated bottom. There was no escaping this route without professional grappling gear and perhaps a helicopter. He was not going to play MacGyver and try and tie bed sheets together either.

"_Bonita, no? And those cliffs are muy peligrosos. I wouldn't even attempt to do what you might be thinking, you'll only wind up making the sharks very pleased. Especially the ones I'll release from beneath the cavern should you miraculously make an escape to the water."_ Ochoa sneered_. "The glass is bullet proof, and if you feel it, you'll notice its thickness. No one will hear you scream in here, Agent Casey."_

Casey balled his hands into fists and swiftly turned toward the flat screen.

"What the hell is your game, Ochoa? If you wanted revenge so badly why didn't you just kill me in my own apartment?"

"_Now where is the fun in that, Agent Casey? A man of your caliber deserves a much more dignified death! Though by the time I'm finished with you, you'll probably be begging for me to take your life."_

Casey moved closer to the screen. Ochoa's smile did little to hide the malevolent glint in his dark eyes.

"Just what did you have in mind? Where have you been hiding all these years, anyway? I would have taken yours, but you were too _pollo_ to take the heat and had your brother take the fall. A shame, since he was the brains of the Ochoa clan. Too bad I had to splatter them on the pool deck after he took shots at an innocent woman!"

Ochoa glared at Casey and shook his vid cam_. "How dare you! You killed an innocent man who was only trying to protect his brother!"_

"No, more like protecting his brother's assets! You made sure everything was in your name, right down to the buttons on his collar. _You _only cared because once he was gone; you had _no clue_ how to manage all that delicious green you made off the cheap nose-candy your dealers peddled to school kids! You knew your time in that trade was up and that's why you had an incendiary plan of escape. Without Emilio, it would have failed anyway. Whatever you did afterward, I don't know…all that crack may have fried your brain, so let me tell you this, you messed with the wrong Agent!"

Ochoa suddenly laughed loudly and calmed his fiery temper. He was going to be as sportsmanlike as possible.

_"Agent Casey, that's where you're dead wrong. Now go back to the bed and lay down. I want you in primal condition for what I have planned. I'll be sending my own personal assistant from my resort to aid you back to health. Aren't I considerate? She will be in shortly with a meal and something to treat those wounds. Oh, and one more thing, that little collar you're wearing is a state of the art tracker. I am sure you guessed by now. Should you try and leave this room before I allow, it will emit a high pitched frequency that will send you into spastic convulsions and then instantly kill you when the laser slices your head clean off."_

**-Oo-**_  
_

Ochoa clicked off from view before Casey could reply. Casey growled furiously and yanked at the collar, but then threw his hands down. He stretched out his muscles and paced around, feeling like a rat in a cage. He saw the doorknob turn. An exotic woman in her early forties entered, she was dressed in a white and flowing strapless gown with a silver belt swathed around her slender waist. Her long, black hair garnered down her back in gentle curls and was streaked with silver pieces, some of which may have been artfully contrived. She pushed in a delectable smelling tray loaded with healthy and meaty Mexican dishes. Casey barely had to see her to know her. He closed his eyes, enveloped in the familiar scent of her oiled skin.

"_Layla…"_ He breathed softly.

The woman shut the door and wheeled the cart toward the small dining table in the kitchenette area of the room. Casey opened his eyes when she didn't respond and walked toward her. He didn't know if they were being watched. When his astute blue eyes met her tranquil gaze, her lips curved up delicately, a signal that she recognized him. She quickly lowered her head and spooned out the food on dishes.

"I am to be your personal servant." She murmured with a strong accent. "My name is 'Esperanza.' It means…"

"Full of _hope."_ He finished.

Casey lingered closer to her, and brushed his hand over hers as she set down a plate. She deftly turned her head away from him, exposing her bejeweled neck and sending a whiff of flowery shampoo into his nostrils. The wisps of hair that tapered down the nape of her neck filled him with a long-lost delight. He fought the urge to grab her and smother her silky mouth with kisses.

"_Hope_ that you would come." She sighed quietly. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. I got your message…you're right, you are _horrible_ with that cipher."

Casey sat in the chair and allowed her to serve him; his steady gaze never wavered as she passively fulfilled her duties. He felt her yearning to be released and her distress knotted the small muscles in her toned body.

"Is your _master_, watching you…or me?"

"You'll find out. He has cameras all over, but they are not all in use. There is no audio. I looped them; right now you're sleeping, as are Ochoa's watchdogs like the stereotypical Chicanos taking a mid day siesta."

Casey wanted to cut to the chase. "That's my girl. Why am I here?"

"He has not told you?"

"No he has not!" He mocked her.

"Ochoa wants your head on his wall, a memento to add to his collection. We couldn't find him way back because he had escaped to Africa and used his remaining funds to delve into poaching…big game hunting. What do you think happens to idle rich men when they get bored with lions and tigers and bears?"

Casey held his cheek with phony shock. _"Oh my!_ They hunt humans and become chess masters?"

Layla's gaze darted around the room. "Correct. I cannot stay here much longer. I will wait for you to finish your meal and then I will clean up that wound_…unless_…"

Casey pushed his plate aside and put the silver covering over it.

"Let's clean it up first."

"That's what I thought."

Layla led him to the bed and removed the tray with peroxide and cotton. As she wiped away the crusted blood from the side of his head, Casey ignored the sharp iodine stings by softly humming. Layla lowered the cotton swab and shook her head as Casey quietly sang.

"_Layla, you've got me on my knees, Layla, I'm begging, darling please, Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind…_" Casey smirked. "It was usually by _knees_ that we…"

Layla gripped his shoulder and he cringed under the pressure. "I'm not _that_ much of a pushover, it was _ease_…the third stanza, and no, I cannot fall for that one anymore." She released him and he rotated his shoulder.

"_Ouch_! You still have the iron grip."

"Only if I grip the right nerves."

"You always did."

Layla kept her face expressionless as she finished cleaning the wound. "John, how can you be so calm? Do you realize what Ochoa's going to do?"

"Panicking never solved anything, and it's not my nature to fall to pieces no matter what Patsy Cline says. You know that about me. I take it he wants to play the hunter and dress me up like a lion?"

Layla rolled her eyes. "Something like that."

Casey gripped her hand. "Why did you warn me? What are you doing here?"

Layla hesitantly eased her hand out of his, but he clasped his long fingers through hers. She always loved when he did that. He walked deliberately slow with her to the table.

"I have to go now, John. I can't explain it yet."

"When do you plan to tell me, while my head is being stuffed by the taxidermist?"

"_John!" _Layla calmly rubbed his chest, savoring the warmth of his chest hairs and rugged muscles_. "_Have you ever heard of an organization called, Fulcrum?"

Casey heaved his shoulders and looked at her plainly. "In _passing_…what about them?"

Layla took that as a _'Yes, I know everything_' answer. "A few nights ago, I found out that they paid Ochoa handsomely to have you brought here, but I don't know why. What's your involvement?"

Casey dug his fork into his salad, at least Ochoa wasn't cheap with the grub. "Let's just say, I'm deeply vested in them…or they to me…and my latest team."

Casey chewed thoughtfully and a sudden, disconcerting thought entered his mind. He stood up abruptly and led Layla by the elbow to the door.

"I can't tell you anymore either, Layla. You better go. We wouldn't want Ochoa getting suspicious. Make sure you un-loop that surveillance."

Layla dropped her arm. _"That_ got your attention! What is it? Remember, John, Lime has _no secrets."_ She pressed against him.

"That was when we didn't have as many, Coconut."

As Casey stared into her eyes, he was struck with more alarming suspicions. After eighteen years, he didn't know how far he could trust her. How many Agents had turned rogue for Fulcrum? It was a staggering number that even unnerved him. He cautiously leaned down and held her cheeks. Layla became like putty in his arms. He voraciously kissed her until she reeled against the door frame, gasping. She held her mouth and then rushed to him again. Casey picked her up with a flourish.

"You haven't lost it." She panted. "Oh John! _I missed you!"_ She nearly cried.

"I've never forgotten you." He whispered heatedly, knowing their lives took dramatic turns personally and romantically after their partnership ended. "It's just as sweet as I remember." He murmured, while delicately kissing her all over her face and shoulders. He lowered her reluctantly and wiped her hot tears.

"Go, Layla. Don't jeopardize your cover here."

"I will find a way to get you out of here!"

"I know you'll certainly try."

Layla sensed his mistrust. "That is a _promise. _I've never forgotten our…" The word love refused to roll off her tongue and John stared at her with widened eyes. Too much time had elapsed for them to fall into the same youthful passions. Layla straightened up and became business-like once more.

"When you are finished with your tray, there is a small green button on the neck collar. Press it, and it will alert me."

She raised one spangled arm and he noticed a shiny pearl on her silver bracelet. "It will glow, and I'll know it's you. Don't abuse it, I'm a very busy woman here."

"I can see. You must be the Queen Nymph."

Layla held her hips crossly. "That is _not_ my position here, I leave that to the others."

Casey went back to the table and eyed her. "You've had many positions, Layla. I wouldn't be surprised anymore."

"Same sardonic attitude in the face of all danger. That will _never_ change." She mused. Layla opened the door and left him to ponder.

Casey stirred the food around his plate. He was no longer concerned about his safety. He had been thrust into a huge Fulcrum snare to catch the Intersect. He felt it in his bones that Chuck and Sarah would find their way here, and then there was no telling what Ochoa had in store for them all.


	4. Coming to Cabo

**Chapter 4: Coming to Cabo**

Ellie Bartowski slowly opened the front door to her apartment and peeked her head in. Her gaze landed upon the couch and she let out a sigh of relief. Her feathers were still ruffled ever since the Morgan fiasco. As immature as it seemed, in the last few days she was very careful upon entry to her own home. After Morgan had finally departed, she went to work disinfecting the entire kitchen and tossed all the fruits. Later she decided to throw out the bowl. The following day she had Devon strip the couch seat covers and send them to the cleaners. She figured it at least gave her an excuse for a major clean up, though things were usually very tidy in the Bartowski-Woodcomb home.

She dropped her bags on the dining room table and heard a loud groan from Chuck's bedroom. It sounded painful. Her medical instinct kicked in and she hurried toward his room. She would have knocked, but saw the door ajar. She pushed it open, expecting to see him curled up in bed, sick. Chuck was standing in front of his open closet and nearly all the contents were strewn on his bed. She noticed a travel bag beside his desk. Ellie hid a smile and put on her best _'concerned big sister' _face. She went over and with hands on hips stared at the closet with him.

"Ellie…is it possible to have only _two_ types of outfits in your life?" Chuck asked glumly. He referred distastefully to his Buy More white shirt and gray tie and his never-ending supply of Jerseys and jeans.

"Maybe…if you're _Pee Wee Herman_. What's wrong? Why is there a mess in here? _Oh my God!"_

Ellie grasped her mouth delighted. "Chuck! You're moving out!"

Chuck stared at her a little hurt. "Well, gee, don't get so downtrodden about it! Sorry to burst your bubble this time, but _no_…I'm just going on a little vacation."

_"Ohhh_…really? Where?"

"Cabo San Lucas." He said nonchalantly, and then fell back frustrated onto his big pile of clothes.

Ellie nearly jumped in the air. "Chuck! _There? _I've been trying to get Devon to take me to Cabo forever! How are you going? How'd you get the time off…_oh…_tell me you're going with Sarah?"

Ellie shook him and would not let up until Chuck gave her details, but he tried to stay as vague as possible.

"I'm going by_ plane_, I had the time owed to me and…_yeah_…Sarah and I decided we needed another little trip to sort out all these complications. _Uhh_...it was actually _her_ surprise, so she made all the arrangements and sprung it on me this afternoon." Chuck was content that he didn't have to completely lie to Ellie. It was hard enough she had no clue why he was really going.

Ellie's smile could have lit up the State of California for the next decade. She plopped beside him and nudged his waist happily.

"That's wonderful! I'm _thrilled!_ She sat up and looked at his wardrobe. "_Ughh,_ no wonder you're upset, these are _not_ the clothes you wear to a fancy resort."

Chuck buried his head under a pillow. "Especially not if you're Charles Carmichael." He said muffled.

"What?"

Chuck sat up. "Nothing. It's not really my fault. I mean, we decided to do it spur of the moment, you know? I'm sure if I just dig through that cardboard box I have on the top shelf, I'll find some real beachy, summery stuff."

"Whatever you do, please do not wear those tacky, yellow Bermuda shorts you bought because Morgan thought it would be cool to match!"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "I burned those four years ago, but don't tell him."

"Good! I won't if you promise not to tell him I threw out the fruit bowl."

"Deal, sis." They shook hands with a laugh. Chuck took a whiff of the air and grinned. "You know, things have been smelling awfully fresh around here. How goes the clean up? Are we Morgan free?"

Ellie shook her head. "Unfortunately the Morgan keeps coming back no matter how many traps we set, but we are free of Morgan's naked cooties." She shuddered.

_"Good!_ Is it safe to go in the refrigerator?"

"As safe as it ever was. So, when are you leaving?"

Chuck looked at his watch. It was half past five pm. _"Ohhh…uhh_…sometime around six."

Ellie jumped up and rifled through his bag. "You're leaving at six and all you've packed is a toothbrush, hairbrush and socks? Get with it Chuck! Where's the underwear? Do not pull a Morgan at the resort and embarrass Sarah!"

Chuck gaped at her. "I would never! I guess I'll just have to pack what I have."

As he stood up, his cell phone rang. The latest sweet portrait of Sarah appeared on the mini-screen and he smiled. Ellie took that as her cue to leave. She kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm going to start dinner…_ohh,_ wait until I tell Devon! You have to bring back some brochures so I can leave them around the house and in his sock drawer! Definitely one on his exercise bike…something on the treadmill_…oooh,_ this is gonna be so cool!"

She pranced out of the room and Chuck laughingly took the call.

"Y'ello!"

_"Chuck, I'll be over in fifteen minutes, I just had to clear a few things up with Beckman. You were right about the numbers on Ochoa's cross, they link to a foreign bank account somewhere in Côte d'Ivoire__."_

"Excellent, so have they put a stop on it?"

_"Not yet. We can't risk making any suspicious moves. If he has Casey, he can't know we're on to him, otherwise…" _

He heard Sarah gulp and pictured her saddened and comely face. Sarah's gentle, sloping eyes always seemed to reveal her true feelings.

"I know, but we're not gonna let that happen. What about Cabo? Are we sure he's even there? What if…what if they already got him! He might already be dead! Shark bait!" Chuck said excitably.

_"I don't think so, Chuck. Ochoa would not have gone through all the trouble to apprehend him and then dumped him to sharks. Beckman got a lead on a large resort Island about fifty miles from the mainland. It's very, very exclusive. It took a bit of haggling to get us in there. Apparently they are having some major event going on and it's practically booked. That's why we need you to go along with your Charles Carmichael identity. Carmichael is willing to pay anything for this trip. Ochoa's easy, with him, money talks. Don't worry, I got the paperwork, identifications and all that and the reservations are set."_

Chuck looked disdainfully at his scruffy clothes. "There's just one more thing, Sarah."

_"What's that?"_

"My clothes look more like Charlie Brown than Charlie Carmichael."

Sarah actually laughed. _"And who's to blame for that?"_

Chuck couldn't answer her properly and just sighed into the phone. "I guess I'll have to be one of those bored billionaires pretending like they're poor."

_"Chuck, don't worry about the clothes, everything is taken care of. I have to go. Be outside the Courtyard. We can't waste any more time. Our jet is leaving promptly at six-fifteen."_

Chuck was about to agree and hang up, but then his eyes grew wide. "Did you just say jet? As in _private_ jet?"

_"Of course! You think Carmichael is going to ride coach on Jet Blue? We land in Los Cabos and Ochoa's resort package includes a private charter plane that will take us to the Island. It shouldn't take more than five hours tops for the whole trip. You can change clothes on the jet, alright?"_

Chuck glanced at his mess, relieved. "Fabulous. Now I can relax. I'll see you in a few."

**-Oo-**

Sarah had to put a hand on Chuck's knee in order to get it to stop bouncing. He wriggled agitated in his seat, and chewed on his seventh piece of chocolate. He was shocked to find an entire Armani wardrobe of casual wear with two suits thrown in for good measure, already packed and waiting for him. He quickly changed into the most comfortable looking outfit that included taupe pants and a matching white shirt with a leafy taupe print. Sarah's touch stopped him abruptly and he reached for another piece.

"Chuck, you're gonna make yourself sick. We just had a three–course lobster dinner."

"I can't help it, they're delicious!"

"At eight hundred dollars a pound, they should be."

Chuck nearly spit out his piece and mouthed the price in shock. He swallowed hard and pushed the black box aside. Sarah leaned back and fixed her clothing. She wore a simple, but charming pale cornflower blue floral skirt and matching tank. Her hair was done up in an elegant bun. She checked her light make-up in the mirror and then snapped it closed satisfied. Chuck stared wistfully at her. She didn't need to fix a thing.

"Now remember, when we get there, just act calm and casual…meet and greet. And don't forget to give Ochoa, or whoever is hosting, the wine and cheese."

Chuck glanced wearily at the vintage bottle and a huge, decorative basket of the world's most exotic cheese and fruits. "If only the people knew where their tax dollars went. And we wonder why we're in a recession. I'm sure Ochoa will add this to the huge pile of wine and cheeses from every other billionaire."

"It's only proper that we offer something, apparently he had to get some sort of clearance from the group staying to allow us the reservation. At least he acted like he did, but sometimes that's just a ploy to try and jack up the prices. So, I went _higher_ and he accepted. I don't know…that just seems odd to me."

Chuck smiled wryly. "Most billionaires like him are eccentric. I'm just still thinking about Casey! I mean…why is he there? What does Ochoa plan to do with him? It would have been so much easier just to kill him right at home, wouldn't it?"

Sarah adjusted her pillow. "Casey always gets the crazy ones, doesn't he? He has quite a colorful history." Sarah yawned and closed her eyes. "We'll just have to wait and find out, Chuck. Simply put, Casey is a big, strong man. Once he gets his bearings he'll be able to take care of himself. I have that confidence in him. If I were you, I'd try and get some sleep, we'll need all our energy."

Sarah was already nodding off before Chuck could answer her. He scratched his head and made himself comfortable across the way and propped up his long legs. He observed the plush interior.

_'I can really get used to all this.'_ He thought smugly. The steady motions of the jet calmed him and soon he was fast asleep.

**-Oo-**

The transition from the private jet to the small white charter plane went smoothly. Chuck was sorry he had to leave the comforts of the jet behind. He didn't get a chance to explore all its amenities. The charter plane was right on schedule and the flight across the ocean was pleasant. Sarah watched bemused while Chuck pressed his face and hands to the window like a child going to Disneyland.

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" He asked her as she seated herself next to him. "It's too bad it's getting so dark, but I can see the Island from here. So many colors! It's like munchkinland! They must be having bonfire parties or something on the resort. Does Ochoa own this _entire _isand? It's huge! Half of it looks _empty_. He should think about expanding."

"Ochoa has to be very careful not to fall on the radar, Chuck." She answered in a subdued tone. "General Beckman is in discussions with the President of Mexico as we speak. Ochoa falls out of our jurisdiction now because he never got much chance to do his dirty work in the States. The U.S. dropped his case after a while. But he sure made tons here off the drug trades among other things. Imagine, if Casey and Calderon couldn't find him, he must have went deep. I can freely admit this now, those two are some of the greatest Agents we have."

"Casey's soon to be a living legend like Montgomery! They must have made quite a team." Chuck mused. "The C&C spy factory."

Sarah leaned close to Chuck's ear and her nearness sent a shiver down his spine.

"Chuck, we have to watch what we say around here, you never know whose listening in or spying on _us._ From here on in, this is Ochoa's turf."

Chuck nodded and faced her, their noses touched and their lips quickly brushed. Sarah lingered and Chuck stared into her eyes. He quickly gazed beyond her shoulder, getting an odd feeling about the pilot. Though a good distance out of earshot, he continually stared at them through his mirror. He was more interested in ogling Sarah. Chuck grasped her arms and mischievously leaned toward her. He smiled and gritted his teeth.

"Just play _along."_

With a loud laugh, Chuck lurched her back on the seat and nibbled at her ears. Sarah was startled, but then coyly kept trying to shrug out of his clutches.

_"Oh Charles!_ First the jet…now the charter plane! There's no space in here! Can't we at least wait until we get our bungalow?"

Chuck threw his head back haughtily. "You know Charles Carmichael doesn't like to wait!"

He lowered himself toward her again. Chuck pecked at her neck and mussed her hair. It was frenzied, but then Sarah slowed down and grasped his cheeks. She pulled him closer against her and kissed him steadily. She was no longer playing.

Chuck nearly pulled back, but changed his mind. This was something he always dreamed would happen again. He traced her features and ran his fingers through her blonde waves, slowly bringing them over her shoulders. He murmured her name gently. All of a sudden, the pilot called out to them.

"Señor Carmichael, we are ready to land. I must ask you to put on your safety belts, por favor."

Sarah, who for a solitary moment had relished Chuck's warmth and soft caresses, popped her eyes open. She scooted out from under him and adjusted her tank, then put on the seat belt. Chuck did the same and continued to stare longingly at her until the plane lowered onto the outskirts of the resort. The mood had shifted and Chuck's nerves were jittery. All the dark chocolate he had eaten swirled in his stomach with the lobster. He couldn't look at Sarah anymore, so he kept his gaze out the window again. He spied a tiny plane tower and covered his mouth, but he was unsuccessful at stifling his loud laughter.

"What's so funny, _Charles?"_ Sarah quickly breathed into her palm, and ran her tongue over her teeth. She hoped it wasn't directed to her.

"If I don't laugh, I'll eventually scream. I was just thinking it would be pretty awesome if they had a midget…_umm..uhh_…_little_ person… in the tower to wave and greet us, you know…_Tattoo_… _'De plane! De plane!_ Classic!_'_" Chuck crossed his eyes and pointed around wildly, eliciting giggles from Sarah.

"Oh my goodness, this is anything but Fantasy Island, _Charles!_"

"Well for _these _prices!" Chuck said loudly and arrogantly. "I would expect at least _one _fantasy to come true!"

Sarah waved her hand at him and kept silent until they landed. Chuck was in awe at how easy it was for her to turn from hot to cold and act like their tender moments never happened. He decided not to mention it…yet.

"There is one that has come true, darling." He said briskly and grabbed her arm. "I made it here with you."

Sarah's eyes nearly watered as he spoke. She wanted to respond, but the plane came to a final stop and the pilot told them they could depart. The pilot carried their luggage off the pier to the entrance of the resort. It was still a spectacular view at night with a mixture of artificial and natural lighting to bring out the stunning hues of the plant life and flowers that encircled the footpath. The pilot put down their bags and coughed slightly. Sarah nudged Chuck to tip him. Chuck removed his wallet and was stunned to find a few thousand dollars inside. He tried not to look too obvious and pulled out a fifty. The pilot pocketed it gratefully and bowed.

_"GRACIAS!_ Enjoy Señor Carmichael…_y senorita bonita! _And remember, on Fantasy Island, every wish come true comes with a price!" He scurried away before his manager could come and reprimand him for taking gratuities.

Another staff member of the resort came up to them and picked up their luggage.

"Follow me, please."

The parties and revelry were just getting started for the evening as Chuck and Sarah made their way to a lofty, ivory and Marble Villa to confirm their arrival. A stunning woman appeared from the front entrance and sauntered toward them. Sarah's eyes went big with recognizance. Chuck's eyes grew heavy until his mind flashed with images of the woman in different countries in all kinds of disguises. The last flash caused him to gasp and then he finally fell to attention. His cheeks flared immensely as she stepped into the subdued lighting. For a very brief second he had seen the full object of Casey's desire…along with more of Casey than he'd _ever_ wish to see again.

Sarah glanced at him, sensing he had flashed. "No wonder he's a _bear."_ Chuck whispered to himself uncomfortably. Sarah looked up at him strangely, but then pleasantly reached out her hand to the woman.

The woman eyed them, but kept a bright smile plastered on her face.

"Welcome to _El Paraíso del Viejo Mundo!_ I am your hostess for your stay. My name is Esperanza Vega. I will gladly show you to your bungalow, but first follow me to the Villa to sign in, please."

As she walked ahead of them, Chuck pushed into Sarah, still reeling. "I can totally see why Casey put the lime in the coconut! _Yowza, yowza, yowza!_"

Sarah rolled her eyes at Chuck's corny aside. Every man had the same intense, awkward reaction upon meeting Layla Calderon for the first time, and her age made no difference. She was just as gorgeous as ever. Sarah was sure Layla recognized her, but now wasn't the time for questions.

Chuck looked out across the immense swimming pool area, many adult guests lingered around eating and dancing while lively Spanish music blared from a hidden stereo system. It helped to keep the mood spirited, as some of them couldn't crack a smile if you paid them. A queer feeling enveloped Chuck while he looked from person to person. He staggered with dizziness.

"Oh no! Not now! Sarah!"

Rapid and violent flashes assaulted his psyche. He wobbled and Sarah turned just in time to catch him as he sank to the ground. He fumbled for her arm and gripped it tightly, forcing his eyes closed to hinder the throbbing.

_"Chuck!_ Are you okay? What's wrong?" She spoke fervently, but not loud enough to draw attention.

Layla knelt down quickly and took his pulse. It beat rapidly. The pallor of his face and sweat on his brow clued her in to his condition. She glanced at Sarah.

"He's about to faint. We have to get him to his room." As Sarah motioned to help him up, Layla grasped her. "No, I'll go get medical help. We must talk soon…_Agent_ Walker."

Sarah nodded, and then looked at Chuck helplessly as Layla ran into the Villa. All Sarah could do was grasp his head and shoulders against her chest until medical help arrived. She rubbed his hair and dredged up a few tears.

"Please hang on, Charles! It will be _alright!_ He'll be alright, he just has some jet lag. It must have been the Lobster, darling." She said aloud to concerned staff.

Chuck flickered in and out of consciousness long enough to whisper...

_"Sarah_…_Fulcrum_…_all of them!"_


	5. Truths and Churros

**Chapter 5: Truths and Churros**

"I think he's awakening. I'm so sorry this happened Senorita! For your troubles, I will give you one extra free day and night!" Damien Ochoa babbled to his new guests.

"We would _so_ love that, Mr. Ochoa…I think he'll be fine! I told Charles he's like allergic to lobster, but he like, loves it _sooo _much." Sarah answered flighty, throwing in a little valley girl lingo for good measure. "My_ Charlie warlie_ thinks he can handle anything!"

She gently placed a damp rag over Chuck's forehead. He was sprawled out on a massive king-size bed surrounded by a dozen silky pillows of all shapes and sizes. The room was designed with warm, muted tones that reflected the colorful Hacienda style of the entire upscale resort.

Chuck whimpered and moaned. He put his hands over his eyes to rub out the last of the scattered Intersect images.

"_Who knew that Turkish militants had such creative steam bath torture tactics?"_ He mumbled wearily. _"He liked that one, didn't he?"_ He gazed at Layla.

Sarah's face blanched and she immediately leaned down and smothered him with kisses on the mouth.

_"Oh, Charles! _You're awake! You're _alive!_ I told you not to watch action movies and eat those hoagies in the Hot tub! They like, give you nightmares. I was so worried about you, my _snookie wookie snuggle uggums!"_

Chuck's eyes flew open and he glanced toward Ochoa and Layla, he forced a smile and Sarah grabbed his face toward hers again.

"You scared me to death, you _bad boy!_" She purred and teasingly slapped his chest. "I'm going to have to take _extra_ special care of you tonight."

She eyed Ochoa, but he seemed to have missed the Turk reference, he appeared a little disturbed over other matters. However, Layla glowered at them, but said nothing. Layla turned to Ochoa while Sarah played up her cover.

"Damien, I will see to it that these guests are comfortable. Don't worry yourself, you must go out and play host, more have arrived." She nodded furtively to him and he winked at her.

"Of course, Esperanza. I will do that…and don't forget to check on our _other _guest." He glanced at her bracelet, which started to glow. She put her hand over it before Sarah could see.

"I will take care of everything, Damien. Go and enjoy yourself…fiesta, as _always."_

Damien motioned to stroke her cheek and Layla forced herself not to cringe. His hands were smooth as butter and he was nothing more than a greasy fool. Ochoa left the room. The moment he was gone, Layla locked the door and strode toward the bed.

"Agent Walker, are you and this…_guy_, part of Casey's team?" She demanded.

Sarah let Chuck sink back into the pillows. He was dazed, but no longer because of the Intersect. She stood up briskly.

"Yes, I am. I want to know what's going on here…_Coconut_. We found Casey's messages and figured out the cipher. Why does Ochoa have him and where is he?"

Layla folded her arms. "Ochoa has him here for personal reasons. I assure you, he's still alive."

Relief washed over Sarah's face and her heart tightened. Since when did she get so emotional over Casey before? Since she had come to respect him as a partner, if not a friend.

_"Fulcrum_ hired Ochoa to kidnap him, they were really after _the In_…" Chuck interrupted.

Sarah glared at him to keep quiet and Chuck threw himself back down. He fumbled around the bed, slipping on the silky sheets until he slid completely off with a loud thud.

Layla shook her head glumly and rolled her eyes. "Tell me he's _not_ an Agent? You're very cautious, Sarah, that was always commendable. I want you to know that I'm no threat to you. I've been here for the last two months on a deep sting operation. You and Casey _must_ trust me. Ochoa is planning something, but now I realize I have to let him follow through. If it is what I think, it's the only way to get Casey off the resort and to the other side of the island. The CIA will handle the rest."

"Not anymore, Agent Calderon. The NSA is fully involved and General Diane Beckman is obtaining permission for us to apprehend Ochoa and…"

Chuck weakly raised a finger. "I _really _don't think that's a very good idea right now, Sarah. I told you about…"

_"Fulcrum."_ Layla finished. "I know. That's why I'm here too. We've been waiting for this special week for so long. Apparently many of its members are having an annual meeting of sorts. It took us over a year to finally smoke Ochoa out and then locate their gathering place. Only, this is just one of dozens around the world."

Chuck rolled to a sitting position. He wanted to tell them that for some reason, Ochoa still didn't flash as Fulcrum, but kept silent. He couldn't compromise the Intersect and there was still not much reason to trust Layla Calderon, save she was once Casey's partner in many unique ways.

"If this was a purely CIA job, why did you involve Casey? You don't seem so helpless here." He wondered, thinking about her hidden message that said, _'Need Help.'_

Layla smiled demurely. "John and I had made a little pact long ago. Whoever found Ochoa first would contact the other somehow. I knew he would want to be there for the honors. I discovered that the NSA had a very special interest in Fulcrum and John's name was somehow involved. When I discovered they would be here, I assumed he would really want to know that."

Chuck crossed his arms and looked at her deprecatingly. "So basically, it's all your fault Casey was dragged here against his will and is now going to be killed. _Nice going!"_

Sarah gaped at him. She went to his side and nudged his leg. "You don't talk like that to a _living legend_, Chuck." She seethed quietly.

"I don't think she understands. If Casey didn't come here, then we wouldn't be here, now everyone's in for it!" He whined. 'Government Asset, remember?"

Sarah's eyes could have burned a hole in him. "I told you not to come, _Charlie-Warlie_!"

"Well, it's better I did, because…because…" Chuck was losing the argument. Regardless of Intersect or not, Sarah would have found out from Layla that Fulcrum was holding an annual meeting.

Layla held her temper and crossed over to the bed. _ "_Mr. Bartowski, I don't think_ you _understand. This goes back very far, and it's personal. I warned John to save his life, but it was too late. I didn't expect him to come as a prisoner…but as my…"

_"Rescuer."_ Sarah finished sympathetically. If there was anything good about Casey, it was that he was loyal to people he cared about, and she was learning that included herself and Chuck.

Chuck pulled on her dress. "Didn't you hear her? She called me Mr. Bartowski! How…how did you know that?"

Layla grinned. "When you fainted I took a small hair sample and ran it through a miniature DNA scanner I have. I'm so curious to know what a Buy More computer technician is doing involved in this mess, _and _working with some of the best Agents I've ever met." She winked at Sarah, who grew delighted with the compliment from her old instructor.

Chuck stuttered but Sarah answered. "That's a bit of privileged information. We can't share it. Just know that Fulcrum has a heavy price on our heads, which is why Casey was taken. Is there a way I can see him? I want him to know what's going on and that…well, that we're here for him."

_"Aww,_ Sarah, that's so sweet. I hope he appreciates it. I'm going to restrain myself from saying, _'NOT!_'" Chuck murmured. He kicked off his shoes and lay back. "My head is still killing me, these meds better start working."

Layla sighed and then both women smirked and looked toward Layla's dinner cart. Sarah knelt beside it, she folded herself underneath its base and drew down the tablecloth.

"Perfect fit." She said and raised her thumb.

Chuck shook his head and rushed over. _"No! _Wait, it's too dangerous…this place is crawling with thieves, mass murderers and terrorists! If Ochoa finds out…let me do it!"

"Absolutely not, Chuck."

Layla dug into her belt and pulled out a small black device. "It will be fine, Chuck. I have ways to override the cameras in John's room. I've done it twice already."

Chuck wasn't convinced, but arguing with _two _stubborn female Agents would give him a bigger migraine. He lowered himself beside the cart and lifted the tablecloth.

"Just be careful, Sarah." He stroked her hair.

Sarah gazed at him softly, but then grew serious. "I will, Chuck. This is part of my job. You stay here, and whatever you do, _don't _leave the room. I don't want you flashing anymore. You've had enough. Too much."

"Believe me, I've seen enough for a lifetime. _Alright,_ I'll be here…they have over seven hundred cable channels! I can watch 'Betty La Fea' Hurry back!"

**-Oo-**

Casey rushed to the door of his room, stopping just short of the invisible boundary that would cause his collar to activate. He waited for it to open and Layla came in smiling, leisurely pushing the dinner cart.

"Hola! Did you order more room service? You always loved to eat…"

The door slammed behind her and Casey pulled her close to him. Before she could stop him, he roughly shoved the cart to the center of the room, but didn't see Sarah's hand fly out to halt it from crashing against the opposite wall.

"I ate dinner a while ago, I was hoping for more dessert!" He rumbled fervently.

He swept her toward his bed and kissed her passionately. Layla fell into it, but then resisted. When she pushed him away Casey eyed her apprehensively.

"What's the matter…I thought you wanted this? Remember we pulled something similar in Tahiti?"

Layla eyed him irritably. "You're the one who rang for me, John! How did Chuck Bartowski find out about the Turkish militia and the steam bath torture room?" She demanded.

Casey was shocked into laughter. "What? _Chuck?_ He's here? I…_damn that_ _moron!"_ He growled loudly, silently cursing the Intersect and all its secrets in Chuck's brain.

"_Don't_ blame him, there was only one way he could have known that…_you_ told him!" She scolded.

Casey tried to be blasé. The rest of Team Bartowski did not compromise the Intersect.

"Yeah, he wanted to know all the 'cool' things I went through as an Agent, so I mentioned it…it's also part of my 'death by torture' package for him if he gets on my last nerve…because most of the time, he really gets on it!"

"Why are you always so cruel? He seems like a sweet boy. I wouldn't wish that on anyone like him."

Casey sighed. Women were forever complicated and never let up on trivial issues. "Layla, even though it _was_ torture, it felt like heaven for a while…I told you, it was a free detox! You didn't seem to mind the first hour." He blew her a kiss.

"Until I was dehydrated, overheated and nearly _died_, John! It was a trick, remember? I never did have your ability to withstand things like that…" She jadedly nuzzled her head on his shoulder. She was in fact getting older and growing very tired of the entire spy business.

Casey put an arm around her, feeling sorry for her situation. "I always knew women had it tougher in the field, but who listens to me?" He kissed her head compassionately. "Baby, _relax,_ I found the settings in the nick of time and revived you…but _forget that_, how is Bartowski here? And how did you know…?"

His gaze drifted toward the dinner cart and he noticed the tablecloth rustle. Sarah rolled out and stood up swiftly.

_"Whoo!_ It's getting a little cramped down there and a little _hot _in here." She joked lightly.

Casey came to his feet. Even though he did expect help to show at some point, he was surprised. Sarah smiled breezily at him.

"I'm glad to see you're alright, Casey. Captivity hasn't messed with your appetite that's for sure."

She looked at Layla with wide eyes and shrugged. Casey was quiet, but she saw his gratefulness and the beginnings of a sincere smile.

Casey paced around, getting himself focused again. "Thanks, Walker. So what's going down? I feel like the boy in the plastic bubble! I want out of here!"

Sarah approached him and studied the collar around his neck uneasily. She didn't trust herself to fiddle with the buttons. She looked at Layla.

"What is this thing? What are they going to do with him?"

"That's one of Ochoa's special toys. It's designed to track Casey's movements in the Villa. Casey is not allowed to leave this room or else it will cause convulsions and a laser will…behead him." She finished sadly. "He knows the rules. He must stay until Ochoa decides he's ready."

Casey flopped on the bed and pulled at his head with disgust. "Yeah, yeah, _prime _physical condition. Holing me up in here and stuffing me with quesadillas will not help me to be in my prime!"

"Quesa-_dee_-_yas_, John...not di-_ll_-as. I think he plans to start tomorrow." Layla said. "He just didn't want you too dizzy from that bump on the head."

Casey jumped up irritated. "You've been staking out this resort nightmare for over two months and you _don't know_ what he's planning? What kind of Agent are you, Calderon? You should have…"

Sarah jumped in for Layla's defense, when she saw the remark hurt her.

"Layla's _one _woman doing the job of an entire CIA team, that's how good she is, Casey. Or did you forget? I don't recall you ever getting this close to Ochoa after you _lost _him the first time, so _shut up!"_

Casey glowered at her, but then clamped his mouth closed and grumbled defeated. Layla remained as calm and collected as she ever was.

"Thank you, Sarah…I know John gets like this when he's frustrated. I used to just let him mouth off. My Intel tells me that Ochoa has no real Fulcrum ties. They are just using this resort for a meeting spot. All he cares about is the money, and they are paying him well...and what I meant is that I don't know what he's planning for _you, _John. He's a _lunatic, _his mind changes with the winds. We can only presume it involves some kind of island pursuit."

Casey wrung out his arms. The gigantic room had a small work out space and heavy equipment that he took full benefit of during the idle hours.

"He picked the wrong animal! When I get my chance, I will tear him to pieces." He slammed his fist against the bed.

"No doubt with those strong choppers of yours." Layla teased. She glanced at the wall clock, it was nearing one am.

"I have to leave you for the night. I will be back in the morning with breakfast. I'm sorry, John."

Casey muttered incoherently and kicked around the fancy pillows. He glanced up at her with a pleading brow. Sarah pressed her lips to keep from laughing.

"I'll just…_get back in my cart."_ She slipped away under the tablecloth.

Layla approached Casey and massaged his shoulders, then caressed his face. She always had a way to rile his senses and keep him utterly relaxed at the same time.

_"When_ we get out of this, John…_maybe_…we can try again somehow." It was more of a statement for her then a question.

Casey drew her in a hug. "No matter how many times I screwed up, you always had confidence in me, Layla. You supported me, and didn't beat me down for my mistakes…and helped me keep my senses half the time. Sometimes I miss that about a woman…but you…you always did it the best."

Layla drew his face toward hers and her eyes glistened tearfully. "Why are you always so brutally honest, John? That's also what I loved about you. You're so brave and forthright to a fault…and even though I know you hide it flawlessly, you've got a big heart. I think it's time you let others see it. We all need people in our lives, we can't go it alone forever."

Casey eyed her as she ran her fingers over his heart. It thudded in his chest like crazy, so he knew it existed.

Layla kissed his cheek and pulled away. "Goodnight _amor._"

Casey's hold lingered on her arms and his fingers glided down slowly until he was clutching her hands.

"Layla…_I love...I love you…"_ He sighed.

**-Oo-**

Sarah remained motionless the entire time and rested her cheek in the crook of her arm. She pursed her mouth sadly. If Casey was able to say that to Layla, was there ever hope for her and Chuck? She knew how badly Chuck wanted to say those words to her, but the more she pushed him away…the more he proved it by his dealings with her and little, sweet gestures. Casey was a man of few words. Even if it killed him to actually say it, she imagined that Layla experienced his love through his actions. The cart lurched forward and she scrunched up further, pondering what took place the entire way back.

When she came inside the bungalow, Chuck was sitting up in bed eating a large bowl of ice cream and churros. She held her hips and laughed.

"Chuck, I thought you were sick?"

Chuck smiled impishly at her. He had gotten comfortable and changed into a tee shirt and boxers. "Only in the head, not in the stomach. Help yourself, there's a bowl in the mini freezer."

"I think I will. I'm in the mood for it…but I'll pass on the fried dough." Sarah grabbed her bowl and spooned the ice cream thoughtfully.

"So…details, Sarah. What's gonna happen to Casey? God, I sound like a broken record."

"None of us are too sure, but we think it involves some kind of hunt."

_"Hunt?_ Like a treasure hunt?"

"No…like an _animal_ hunt."

Chuck looked up thoughtfully, and then grew fearful. "Oh man, then Casey's gonna be the animal? That's insane! Ochoa is a few tacos short of a combo platter."

Chuck couldn't finish his dessert and put it back in the freezer. He walked nervously around the room, touching the décor and scratching his head. He didn't know why, but he was starting to feel woozy again. Maybe it _was _jet lag. He slumped on the couch and Sarah came over concerned.

"Chuck, you still look sick, I think you need to get some rest. I'll take the couch tonight."

"No way, Sarah, I will."

"Chuck, there's no discussion here. You _need_ to rest."

"Sarah what kind of man do you take me for? I would never let a woman take the couch if she could easily have the luxury bed…which by the way, vibrates heavily for fifty cents!"

Sarah grew frustrated with him. "Chuck, why do you always insist on being so noble? Just take the damn bed!"

Chuck recoiled and tossed up his hands. Something was eating away at her. His expression softened.

"Do you want to talk about it? Was it something I did?"

Sarah clammed up and picked at the small lint on her skirt. She couldn't meet his honey sweet gaze.

"No, Chuck. I'm sorry. It's nothing. I'm tired. I'm just going to take a hot shower, that's what I need."

"Okay. I'll set up the couch for you, then." His plan was to set it up, then jump in and pretend to be fast asleep when she came out.

"Thanks."

Chuck helped her to her feet. Sarah looked at him seriously.

"Remember, we can't tell Layla anything else about us being here…or the Intersect. We're strictly on a rescue mission for Casey."

"Gotchya, otherwise Casey would have to kill her, right?"

"She _would_ be a threat to National Security…even with her rank and badge. He might be given orders to…but that's up for dispute. I doubt it would go that far. And I _know_ he wouldn't do it."

"What makes you so sure?"

Sarah stared at him with a modest smile. "Because he _loves_ her, and he actually had the nerve to tell her so."

Sara turned and headed for the bathroom. Chuck's mouth fell open…her words had purposely stung him. He slapped his thighs and stood up to full height, but then staggered…the wooziness grew stronger and his vision nearly blurred. He shrugged it off as a latent side effect of the Fulcrum wannabe Intersect. He walked in her direction.

"Sarah! _Wait!"_

Sarah stopped and hung her head. She looked his way and poised herself until he was standing less than an inch behind her. Chuck sucked it all in. It was time to be a man and make a confession. He gingerly reached for out for her. His fingers brushed her shoulder and she turned her face to nuzzle them.

Sarah's body stiffened with a searing pain. She let out a small cry.

"_Chuck!"_

Her eyes glazed over and she fell back into his arms. Chuck stumbled, but kept his grip on her. He fell onto his behind. A small needle jutted out from Sarah's neck. She was knocked out cold. With trembling hands, Chuck put aside his aversion to needles and flicked it out.

"Oh no! Sarah!_ Sarah!_ Can you hear me? _Wake up!"_

Chuck's wooziness was coming to a head. He fell on his back, with his arms still wrapped around her. He noticed two legs standing beside him and blearily looked up into Damien Ochoa's oily, evil face. The resort owner was holding a small tranquilizer gun and pretended to blow smoke.

"Sorry, I spiked your churros! That's good enough for you. For the little CIA Agent, I needed something more drastic. I didn't want her to cause a scene. This is going to be so much fun. Now there are more animals for the kill! I'm so glad you came into my territory! Tomorrow the hunt begins!"


	6. A test of wills

**Chapter 6: A test of wills**

_"Buenos Dias, Major Casey! I decided to give you a little extra time to sleep in. It is nearing ten-o'clock…normally, I'm a morning person, but like I said, I want you to be in your prime. So, just to get the blood flowing a bit, I have the darling little traitor, Layla Calderon, coming to your door in ten minutes. Yes, I know who she really is now. I now know of a lot of things, Major. Do not worry, she didn't compromise you, the brave, beautiful foolish woman that she is. You must all think I'm a fool…well…fools are good for a laugh, and I will be the one having the last laugh, when all of your heads are displayed on my wall!"_

Casey rose up quickly at the sound of Ochoa's ingratiating voice on the flat screen. It was a pre-recorded message, so he couldn't answer him. The image faded out then Ochoa came back on, wearing a flashy, white suit.

_"Hello again. If you look in the closet across from you, you will find some decent clothing for this hunt. I had them imported straight from Africa. I suggest you change now. I have not yet deactivated the laser on your collar, so it would be very inconvenient for you to try and leave. However, I love a good test of wills, and this my friend, is your first."_

Casey jumped off the bed, hot with anger. He ran to the bathroom to scrub the sleep from his face and then approached the closet. When he opened it, he found a beige, long sleeved hunting shirt and plain, olive green fatigues. In a small knapsack on the floor of the closet lay socks and undergarments and alongside the bag were a pair of high. dark brown hunter's boots. Casey grabbed the articles and changed quickly. Custom made was right; they fit him like a glove, and with a quick glance in the mirror he felt like a stereotypical white model for the cover of 'African Hunter' magazine. All that was missing was a firearm, which Casey felt practically naked without...and a corny safari hat.

The door to his room swung open and Layla stood before him. She looked ravishing in a bright tangerine fitted dress that blended with the island settings outside and accentuated her deep olive skin. She resembled an Island queen with red and orange flowers entwined through her peppered hair. Casey ran up to the edge of the doorway and spied a glimpse of anxiety in her eyes. He saw bruises along her shoulders and upon her arms. Whoever had beaten her spared her lovely face. She would not enter his room.

"Casey…I'm sorry. I failed my mission…_I failed you."_ A single tear rolled down her cheek and he was compelled to touch her face, but couldn't put his arm past the doorway.

"It's not your fault, Layla. You did what you could. You _didn't_ fail." He tried to encourage her.

The giant iron grill doors at the head of the vestibule burst open and Layla jumped. A large man charged toward them brandishing a braided leather whip. Before Casey could react, he yanked Layla by the arm. He turned to Casey with a sneer on his bearded face. His large, dark eyes dared him to make a move.

"Test of wills…how long _will you_ allow your woman to suffer!" He laughed cruelly.

He pushed Layla to the marble floor. She tried to kick him down, but he raised the whip and whacked her. She let out shouts of pain as his arm rose over and over to strike her.

"_Stop it!"_ Casey shouted. "Leave her alone! Get in here and give yourself a real fight!"

"_No!_ You come out here and fight for your woman!"

Casey was enraged; he thrust himself forward and felt small currents build up inside the collar. When he leaned back inside, it subsided, along with the unexpected pressure on his skull. A slow fluid trickled from his nostril. It was blood. He wiped it away quickly. Layla weakly crawled toward him and held out her hand.

"No, John! Stay in there! Forget about me! Just follow through with his stupid hunt! You have to help your team…_AUGHHH!"_

The attacker jumped in front of her to obstruct Casey's view in the doorway and continued his beating. Layla frantically did all she could to block the whip. Casey looked around the room anguished, and then his gaze hit the ceiling. It would do no good to attack the brute with the furniture. He was liable to be dragged out from the room and that was what Ochoa wanted to test, resilience. Casey had to think like the hunted. However, he couldn't attack like a ravaging lion. He needed to use his human sense of reason.

He raced to the edge of the bed and climbed up. He jumped twice, and then made a third jump. He leaped as high as he could until he grasped the giant, wrought iron chandelier. It wouldn't hold him for long. Casey swung his body back like a gymnast and flung out his legs. He wrapped them around the man's neck and shoulders. The man vehemently struggled under Casey's vise like hold, losing oxygen. Casey pulled with all his force until he heard a small crunch and the man tumbled backwards into the room. The chandelier chain snapped and Casey released it, making an expert landing. The chandelier gave way and fell heavily upon the dead attacker.

Layla staggered into the room and Casey grabbed her. He rushed her to the bathroom and exposed her back.

"We have to clean this right away!" He rumbled.

Layla sniffled, but kept silent. When Casey was focused on anything he spoke very little and worked fast.

"The bastard didn't break much skin, these will heal…you blocked them well."

Casey ran cool water over her back for a few minutes, and washed it with soap. He gently patted down the red marks and then led her to his bed. He laid her down on her stomach and cleaned them further with peroxide. Afterward, he covered them with the gauze she had left in the bathroom. Layla cringed from the stinging sensation and Casey softly rubbed her shoulders and arms.

"Your tolerance for torture got weak, huh?"

She turned her head and glanced at him despairingly. "What tolerance? You know I'm more a lover than a fighter."

"Don't I know it. At some point you might just want to expose them, the gauze may stick and hurt. I'm sorry, baby. If I could I have, I would have ripped his…"

Layla hushed him. "John, look at the floor, I think you caused enough damage." She forced a grin. "That was amazing what you did…_thank you. _You're always full of surprises."

Casey sat alongside her and pushed her fallen hair away from the marks. He leaned down and kissed the nape of her neck.

"How many times was I laid up like this and you treated me?"

"Too many… remember Calcutta and the cat-o-nine tails?"

"I still have four of those scars left…but I couldn't have asked for a better nurse." He consoled her.

Layla tried to sit up, but Casey held her down. "It's going to hurt to move, so don't try it. Keep still as long as you can, because Ochoa's going to be coming to see my handiwork."

Casey leaped up and dragged the attacker's body toward the entrance. When he got to the edge, he crouched behind his feet and shoved him out fast, then threw his whip over him and slammed the door.

He kept his view on the flat screen, but Ochoa never appeared. He was growing desperate to know where Chuck and Sarah were. His hopes that they were lounging by the pool with frozen daiquiris were dashed. He walked toward the giant window and opened it. He stepped onto the terrace and gazed across the ocean. Too many people were going to pay a heavy price for his past operations. It was not fair to them. He placed both hands on the railing and closed his eyes, allowing the rhythmic crash of the breakers to calm his troubled spirit. Layla climbed from the bed and redressed carefully. She came up behind him and drew her arms across his waist and rested her head on his back.

"This never would have happened if I had succeeded the first time." Casey said quietly.

"John, you did all you could then, you destroyed his empire."

"But not _him."_

Layla swung him around and held his face. _"No_…because you made a choice to save my life first. Nobody else really knew or saw that I was hit. I don't even think they cared; I was still just the expendable hired help."

"And then what happened? We wasted eight months of our lives tracking down a phantom across the planet!"

Casey turned from her and punched the window, creating a deep crack in the glass. Layla drew away sorrowfully. Her pride stung.

"It wasn't without success! We discovered many other criminals in our dealings. Was everything we shared a _waste_, John? Was I?"

Casey faced her and smiled thoughtfully. "In those dark ages? Never. You kept me from teetering off the edge and stoked my big ego when I needed it the most. I was losing my drive in the whole business, but then I remembered my choice."

Layla reached her hand out to him. "To_ 'protect something bigger than ourselves and put personal feelings aside.'_ Those were your exact words and you've lived up to them, regardless of how you did it. I never forgot that. I guess that's why I'm still chugging along in_ my_ old age." She joked lightly.

Casey stroked her bruised arm and gently pulled her close. He avoided touching her back and cupped her chin his hand. _"Old? _You look just the same. Darkly beautiful and brazen. You know my methods are usually unorthodox, but it gets the job done."

Casey's heart swelled and his careworn blue eyes misted over as he stared into the countenance of the woman he once loved. The circumstances which their profession laid upon them, were unconventional. But through all the perils and espionage they never failed to fulfill each others desires. He wondered, just as she did, if they would rekindle the original spark that bonded them.

_'What the hell am I thinking? I have to get off this island first!'_

Layla was attune to his thoughts and kissed his hand. "I know you'll make it…you are a fighter, John and a winner." Layla gripped him closer. "John, my team is assembled on the other end of the Island…if you can make it to them, they will help you and roll in for the arrests! They are waiting for my word, but my cover has been compromised. I've lost contact."

Casey peered at her concerned. "What is Ochoa planning to do with you now?"

"I don't know…I didn't have a chance to alert them that you were here, so they don't know about this hunt."

"I can't let him hurt you, Layla!" Casey seethed.

Layla put her head upon his chest. "You can't worry about me. You must protect Chuck and Sarah, and whatever secret mission it is that you're on. They are your priorities."

Casey couldn't disagree with her. The Intersect could not be infiltrated, and that meant Chuck had to be kept alive. He sighed wearily and leaned in to kiss her when they heard a steady clapping from the flat screen. They saw Ochoa standing in his gigantic parlor with a nefarious grin. Grasping her hand tightly, Casey drew her back into the room.

_"I wish I had some popcorn for all this romance! Now it's time to get down to business!"_ Ochoa boomed.

A wall panel across the room of his parlor opened and Casey watched apprehensively as two muscle-bound guards dragged in Chuck and Sarah. They were dressed in hunting clothes similar to his and were shackled together by the wrist with a heavy chain and wearing white blindfolds. Sarah was very drowsy and Casey could tell from Chuck's open mouth that he had the startled deer in headlights expression he often made in these situations. The guards pushed them to their knees and kept large hunting rifles aimed at their heads. Casey winced, feeling very sorry for Sarah. Whatever Ochoa gave her, had drugged her up good and she barely resisted. She faced straight ahead toward the camera. Ochoa put a tight hand on each of their shoulders.

_"We have new participants! I was trying to figure out how to handle this situation when…"_

As he droned on with his speech, Layla nudged Casey and whispered. "Look at Sarah's brow! She's trying to send some type of Morse code! You were better at that than I was."

Casey faced the flat screen again and moved in closer, watching her blink rhythmically through the blindfold. He stepped away tensely.

"Someone in Fulcrum found out about my team's operation…and is flying in to make a claim. Ochoa's not happy, this hunt is _his_ personal vendetta, so he's going to start it now."

Layla glanced up at him in surprise. _"Woah, _you got all that?"

"Most of it…I had to fill in the rest to make it sound logical."

Ochoa knocked on the screen. _"Major Casey, are you paying attention? What will you choose to do? __Whom __will you take along as your hunting partner?"_

Casey's mind went into a whirlwind. The odds of survival with Sarah were much greater, even in her weakened condition. He wouldn't dream of leaving Chuck behind with Fulcrum and Sarah would have wholeheartedly agreed. He was going to have to rely heavily on his own wits and skills this time. The remainder of Team Bartowski needed him. Casey stood at firm attention with narrowed eyes and folded arms. He stared at Ochoa so gravely that he observed beads of sweat break out along the drug lord's forehead.

"Alright Ochoa, I've made my choice. I will take…_both_ of them!"


	7. Ready to Rumba

**Chapter 7: Ready to Rumba**

Ochoa's armed guards led Casey and Layla toward a winding path at the rear of the Villa. It was where the hunt would commence into the very dense and blossoming island. Ochoa waited with a smile at the opening, surrounded by five other armed guards that looked like extras from 'El Mariachi.' Chuck and Sarah were on their knees beside him with their hands behind their heads. Chuck cowered as usual, but it was Sarah that worried Casey the most as she swayed back and forth and cocked her head from side to side.

"She's rollicking more than Ray Charles at piano!" Casey whispered to Layla.

"He must have given something extra to her. To keep her alert." Layla replied uneasily and clutched his hand. "This is not good for you, John."

Casey glared at Ochoa. _"No way!_ You can't keep us chained together! That's not fair game. What did you do to Sarah?" Casey grumbled.

Ochoa laughed and swung an extra shackle around. "Did I ever say this hunt had rules? Well…there are a few, but they are _all _mine! Step over here!"

When Casey hesitated, the guard roughly shoved him forward. Casey turned to strike at him, but felt a small jolt in his neck and the guard heaved his rifle into Layla's back until she winced. Casey fell back in place furiously and stood in front of Ochoa. Ochoa had his men unlock Chuck and Sarah and pushed Casey between them. Ochoa clamped the shackles over Casey's wrists and connected him to the others. The chains between them only allowed for a foot and a half distance.

Ochoa shoved a steel-hunting knife into the leather sheath attached to Casey's pants. "The gorilla in the middle! Your friends have the advantage of _one_ free arm…but I like to see _you_ incapacitated. This knife is your only source of weaponry. Let's see how big and bad you are _without_ your precious guns, Major!" Ochoa spewed. "And don't give me that look, Casey! It was _your_ choice to take both of them. Now you must live with it…and hopefully, _die_ with it!"

Ochoa removed the blindfolds from Chuck and Sarah and they rose up. They rapidly blinked in the glowing sunlight. Sarah craned her neck and gazed around with a lopsided smile.

_"Wooh,_ look at all the flowers! How pretty!" She spun around in a circle and nearly yanked Casey and Chuck to the ground. Casey grabbed her and forced her gaze. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her pupils dilated. She hadn't acted like this earlier when she gave him the Morse code.

_"Casey!_ This is going to be fun! You remember what_ fun_ is? Don't you?" She looked earnestly at Chuck and shouted like a NBA announcer.

"Are you _ready,_ Chuckles! Let's get ready to _Rumba!"_ Sarah attempted to dance with Casey and dip him, but he shook her while Ochoa and his men laughed heartily.

"Walker…_Sarah, _listen to me! Snap out of it! We have to get through this, I need you focused to help me protect Chuck!"

Sarah blew Chuck a kiss and all Chuck could do was give her a little wave. His body was frozen with anxiety and he didn't want to make any sudden moves with all the guns directed at them.

Sarah frowned at Casey. "Chuckles is a big boy…a very _big_ boy…like you, _haha! _He can protect himself!" She giggled.

Casey stared vehemently at Ochoa, but Layla noticed the uncertainty in his brow.

"Damien! John asked you! What did you do to the girl?" She demanded.

Ochoa shrugged. "I didn't realize what a spitfire this one was until she disabled Felipe my waiter in a _very_ inconvenient place!"

"Hell ya! I sure cracked his walnuts!" Sarah laughed heartily. "More like acorns if you ask me! I hope he's not the resident Cabana boy for the desperate housewives!"

Casey glanced at Sarah again and closed his eyes disgusted. "You gave her morphine! She's got pinpoint pupils and euphoria…"

"It's actually a rare little blend I concocted along with some wild lettuce, it has an…opium like effect. She's really enjoying it! It could wear off in a few minutes…but most likely a few hours."

Layla tugged Ochoa's arm. "And what about the collar around his neck, Damien?"

"Oh, I'm leaving that on for safe keeping, in case he has any slick maneuvers. I will know of any trickery!"

Ochoa smoothly ran his hand over the small, black remote that powered the collar and then put it into his pants pocket. He removed a pistol and just for a laugh, aimed it at some fallen branches. The bullet deflected off the wood and Chuck jumped as the twigs flew into his face.

"_Aughh! _Do we go now?" He fretted and inched closer to Casey.

_"No!_ Now I explain the rules, so listen carefully." Ochoa smiled at Sarah and she winked and twirled her hair at him. He pointed through the shrubbery.

"You have twenty minutes to go West one hundred yards and reach the yellow flag I have placed at the end of this particular trail. When the twenty minutes is up, I will send one of my hunters and he will shoot to kill!"

Chuck laughed nervously. "One hundred yards in twenty minutes? That's…that's _nothing!_ We can so do this, Casey!"

Casey grunted but said nothing. Ochoa obviously had something more devious in mind.

"Did you think it would be that simple? No, it is not! Traps and snares will surround you. I will filter in from time to time to remind you of your time constraints. This is only the _first_ test."

Ochoa snapped and his guards began to jostle the team onto the beginning of the path. Casey halted them.

"Wait a minute! What's gonna happen to Layla?" He demanded.

Ochoa grasped Layla by her waist and hugged her close to him. She didn't put up a fight.

"I will handle the beautiful Layla. I had been starting to have my doubts about her in the past few days, so I had her little bracelet bugged. She didn't know, because being the adept little Agent she is, she had already checked it. The day of your arrival I had given her a new one, because the other one was_ conveniently _damaged. There was no time for her to look it over before you came and I made sure that she didn't, by requesting she return it to me before she turned in for the evening."

Layla gaped at him, and then lowered her head sadly. She had utterly lost her focus upon Casey's sudden return. Layla felt she was losing her edge altogether, but she was not without her own wiles. She swiftly dug her slim fingers against Ochoa's pocket and palmed the remote before he could notice. However Casey did, and stifled a cunning smile. She demurely raised her hand against her lower back and slipped it into the folds of her gold belt. Damien softly swept her hair off her shoulder and he planted a wet kiss on her neck. She jerked away from him.

"Do not ever touch me, you oily pig!"

Ochoa wrenched her arm and forced it up behind her back. Layla whimpered and Casey lunged at him, but a rifle between the eyes immediately blocked his attempt.

"You keep your damn hands off of her!" Casey demanded, never wavering in the face of the rifle. Chuck cowered behind him and Sarah pretended to shoot the guards down like Annie Oakley at a Wild West show.

"Do you think you're the only man for her? I will touch what I want! But regardless, I am locking her away until this hunt is over!" Ochoa thrust Layla into another burly guard's arms.

"Take her to the wine cellar beneath the Villa and make sure she has no means to escape!"

He dug into his waist coast and pulled out a timer. "Forget her, Major! The clock starts in five…_four…three…"_

With a last distressed glance at Layla, Casey tugged on Chuck and he and Sarah stumbled through the flowery thicket until they were no longer visible.

"Adios, Major! It's been my pleasure to see you once again!"

**-Oo-**

Casey stormed so fast through the shrubs that Chuck and Sarah ran to keep up. The foliage Casey pushed away whacked Chuck in the face each time and then Chuck kept halting to move it gently out of Sarah's path. Casey finally stopped short and Chuck and Sarah stumbled against each other until they banged into Casey.

Casey turned toward Chuck with a grimace. Chuck backed up and pointed. "Casey…when…when did your eyes turn _red_ like that?" He said frightened. "I don't have any visine on me."

"You listen to me!" He nudged Sarah to look at him and she turned sharply with a nod and saluted.

"Yes, Sir, Major _Sir!"_

Casey sighed, but his temper still flared. "From this minute on, you both walk where _I _walk and stop when _I _stop! If you don't, I swear on my mother's grave I will cut your arms clean off!" Casey brandished the knife in his face, forcing Chuck's arm up with his. The silver steel gleamed and reflected off Chuck's crossed golden eyes.

"Sure! Sure, Casey!" He nodded profusely but quickly pointed out. "_Uhh,_ Casey…your mother isn't dead!"

Casey closed his eyes and counted slowly, then popped them open. "No she's not, that's why I'm being serious about this, moron! I can't have either of you slowing us up anymore, you got it?"

"Yes, _Johnny boy, _we got it!" Sarah snapped and muttered against him under her breath.

Casey let out a series of grunts that Chuck had never heard until now and then he charged ahead once more. He eventually looked up and abruptly halted. Chuck slowed down until they were all standing in a row and peering skyward.

"What are we looking at? That big ole' vine over there?" Sarah pointed up a few feet ahead of them.

Casey nodded sternly. "That's right! This gotta be a trap."

Chuck shrugged. "What do you mean? It's just an old vine or…_ole' _vine as Sarah said. It has dead flowers all over the place."

Casey put a hand on his chest before Chuck could make a move. "I told you don't go ahead of me! When a vine dies, it usually falls _first,_ before the leaves!"

Casey stared at the ground and detected a distinctive pile of undergrowth. He knelt down and waved his hand over it to sift away some of the shrubs.

"What is it? Another trap?" Chuck asked. Every time Casey had to use his arm, Chuck's arm went with it, he feared that the big guy would eventually pull it from it's socket.

"No…_this_ is the trap! We were supposed to be too entranced with that stupid vine to notice and spring it. It's a release wire."

"To release what?" Chuck demanded.

"To release Ochoa's nasty little surprises! Everyone _down!"_ Casey shouted as he pulled the wire. He threw his arms over Chuck and Sarah's heads and kept them flat on the ground.

They all heard the unmistakable sound of whizzing arrows and a dreaded springing noise as they embedded themselves deep into the tree just two feet across from them. Casey raised his head and saw three, deadly sharp bow hunting arrows dripping with a clear liquid. Chuck's head sprang up.

"Oh my God! Poison tipped darts! Ochie ain't playing no more!"

"Now do you see why you have to follow me?" Casey fumed, breathing heavily with relief. "And yes he is, this is his idea of a big game."

They soon heard Ochoa's voice echo out from a carefully concealed speaker system.

"Very good, boy! _Curare!_ My own lethal blend that would have caused asphyxiation _and _cardiac arrest within minutes! I've poached many elephants with that! _Too bad!_ I was at least hoping to see an arrow lodged into the Major's skull! _Ten_ minutes, Casey!"

Chuck scrambled up, afraid to even step on any one piece of grass. He hopped from foot to foot in the same spot.

"This is insane! I mean… that was really smart of you, Casey, but what if we run into more wires? Who knows what will fly out! This is like Raiders of the lost ark! Do you think he has a big stone ball hiding around here somewhere?" Chuck jabbered in panic.

Sarah was growing frenzied as the drug-induced side effects came to a boil within her. She pushed Chuck flat on the ground and fell atop him. Casey tripped over his legs, winding up with a mouthful of dirt. They resembled a giant pretzel on a twister board. Casey slammed the ground and spit out the loose grass, then rolled up. Chuck was forced to follow suit. Sarah tugged on Chuck's shirt and rattled him until his teeth chattered.

"Will you _stop whining_ for five minutes? I'm getting a migraine! Unless you have something _important_ to say to me like you did_ last night_…keep your big mouth shut! Ochoa's not going to use the same dumb trick twice!"

Sarah slid her hands off him and grasped her stomach; a churning feeling enveloped her insides. "Now I _really _feel like I have a spastic colon." She mumbled feebly. "Casey, I'm going to be sick. Am I going to die? Is this killing me?"

Casey steadied her, but she leaned her head against his chest dizzily. He nudged her over and over again until she was alert.

"No. It will wear off. Sarah, _stay with me!_ Don't conk out! We're on a mission! Do you understand?"

Casey's eyes peered into hers and she nodded listlessly. Stinging bile gurgled up her throat, but she forced it down. Casey smiled.

"Good girl. We have a _no_ puking policy in effect right now."

Casey turned his attention to a very stunned and offended Chuck.

"She's right, Chuck, Ochoa won't use it again…and _listen_…" He pulled him nearer and whispered. "Don't take what she says personal, that's the drugs talking. _I'm_ the only one around here that seriously thinks you're a head job and I'm the only one that can effectively say cruel and malicious things to you, _clear?"_

Chuck cocked his head with a slight smile of confusion. That was one of the oddest, but nicest compliments he had ever received from the Major.

_"Uhh,_ okay Casey, I gotchya…_um_…hey, we're halfway there! I was counting!"

"Good. Everyone keep moving!"


	8. The pit of despair

**Chapter 8: The Pit of Despair**

The blasting, humid temperature across the island rose along with Casey's temper as the team traveled along. They were only two minutes past the first near calamity when something outrageous occurred. The trio came to a small clearing, which to Casey looked very suspicious. There were no surreptitious vines with dead leaves and he didn't see any phony underbrush to release another wire, but he felt deception in the air. Chuck leaned against the trunk of a leafy fruit tree to catch his bearings while Casey paced as far away as he could. Sarah trailed behind him, sweating profusely and her normally pale skin was now as white as the innards of a coconut.

A slow hiss invaded Chuck's ears and he raised his head, feeling the flicks of a tiny, forked tongue upon his cheek.

_"Aughhh!_ Snake! Casey! Sarah! _Snake!"_

It was not just any snake, but an eight-foot long boa constrictor that was about to curl its way around Chuck's neck. Chuck grew so frantic he slammed into Casey, Casey in turn tripped into Sarah. She fell backwards…and down a concealed hole in the ground.

_"Ahhh!_ Casey! Help me!" She screamed for her life.

The pit was not extremely deep, but it was what lay at the bottom that freaked her out. Rows of sharpened bone spikes jutted straight up, and her feet brushed over them. One nicked her leg, and she immediately felt blood trickle down her pants. To her ultimate revulsion, hundreds of tarantulas crept throughout the pit. They scampered up and down the rock-strewn walls and between the bone shards. There was no way to know if they were poisonous or not.

Sarah wondered for a hazy moment why she wasn't impaled, and then realized that a sturdy hand was clinging to her. When Sarah fell, Casey was knocked to the ground and hauled across the dirt toward her. His brawny limb dangled over the edge and the shackles strained both of them. Casey entwined the loose chain around his wrist for more support to keep her body higher. Sarah was weakened, and had trouble raising her other arm.

_"Dammit,_ Walker! Pick up your arm! Give me your hand!" He struggled vehemently. "You could do this!"

Casey jostled his shoulder ever few seconds to get the spiders off him and watched horrified as the bone tips punctured through them when they landed. When he saw Sarah's wound, he knew they would definitely do the same to her if she dropped any further.

Casey forced his head in Chuck's direction. He was also on the ground, and the snake eased its way toward him, its head was already upon Chuck's stomach.

_"Chuck!_ Pull my legs! I can't get a good hold on her! Hurry up!"

Chuck's eyes were closed tight and then he opened them wide, only to come face to face with the boa. He kicked his legs crazily, pushing himself further away from Casey. Casey's left arm was immediately on fire. He felt that his muscles were about to shred like Big League Chewing gum.

"_Owww!_ Chuck! Don't move back anymore! You'll tear my arm out!" Casey yelled in distress.

The boa slithered higher upon his chest. Chuck feared to talk, thinking the snake's tongue would flick into his mouth. He did so anyway, turning his face away from it.

"Casey! I won't move! But… it's…it's _coiling _around me! He's gonna crush my ribs! He's gonna shoot me up with poison!"

_"Moron!_ Boas aren't venomous! Just push him off and get over here!" Casey bellowed.

The tarantulas were practically leaping onto Sarah and in her drug addled state she imagined the worst possible horrors. They grew to outrageous proportions with glowing red eyes and she literally felt herself being cocooned in a massive web. Her body recoiled from left to right as she attempted to shake them off.

_"Aughhh! Casey! _Get them off of me! They're going to eat me! _Help me!"_ She shrieked, and tears streamed down her face.

Casey was never known for his comforting disposition, but he found himself just limply hanging there, and quietly shushing her in the sweetest voice he had ever used in a long time.

"It's okay, Sarah. I won't let you down. We're partners. _I won't let you fall._ We're in this together…_shh…shh_…be calm. They won't bite if you don't react. I have you! _I have you."_

Sarah's tears reduced to sniffles. She raised her head and looked Casey straight in the eyes, her voice stuttered like a lost little girl. It tugged Casey's heartstrings.

"Do you really _promise?"_ She asked despaired.

Casey forced a genuine smile. "I promise. If you go down…_I go down_…" He refrained from saying that Chuck would quickly follow and they'd all be swiss cheese.

_"USE YOUR TOOLS! CUT HER ARM OFF, MAJOR! SHE'S DEAD WEIGHT! DO IT!"_ They all heard Ochoa laugh aloud. _"SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST!"_

Chuck couldn't bear to know Sarah was in such a state. For as long as he'd known her, she was always a pillar of unflappable coolness. Right now she needed him most and he was failing her. It was his entire fault they were in this mess. Chuck grasped the boa by the neck. It's mouth craned open and it bared its fangs, trying to force it's way around his mid-section and legs. Chuck growled at it and with his free arm tossed its upper body aside as far as he could. He crawled rapidly toward Casey.

"What can I do?"

Casey's body was flat on the ground and he had slipped further over the pit. He slid his hand higher up Sarah's arm and struggled mightily to keep her at the same level. Sweat poured into his eyes, stinging them to near blindness. The spider legs tingled against his skin and he kept shrugging them down the hole.

"Get that knife _out_ of my sight, before I'm tempted to use it! Grab my waist as tight as you can."

"What about your arm? It will twist backward!" Chuck tossed the knife away.

"Just do as I say! When I tell you to pull…_you_ _pull!"_

Chuck did exactly as he was told. Casey did not want Chuck to crawl nearer and flip out over the spiders, because it might cause a greater disaster.

"Got ya, Casey!" He grasped Casey's waist, securing his hands around him.

"Pull me back, Chuck! _Pull hard!"_

Balancing his weight in a crouched position, he tugged on Casey. Casey in turn used the additional strength to drag Sarah higher. Sarah was eventually able to get a firm hold on the dirt and forced her body upright over the precipice. She reached in front of her and grabbed Casey with both arms. She collapsed atop him. Chuck plopped down. The boa snaked alongside his hand. He screeched and yanked the hunting knife in the air. He was ready to plunge it into its neck. The boa stiffened and swung its head from side to side. Chuck suddenly felt a wave of pity wash over him. He patted the top of the boa's shiny head and scurried away. It was his first close encounter with a gargantuan snake and he hoped it would be his last.

Sarah leaped to her feet and jerked Casey and Chuck with her. She hopped around like mad trying to get the intense sensation of spiders off her body.

"Get them off! Get them off! _Get them off!" _She cried, nearly running in circles. Chuck envisioned the bug scene with Willie from _Indiana Jones and the Temple Doom_ and almost laughed. Nervous humor was his specialty.

Casey hurriedly brushed them from her back and she landed against him, shivering. Chuck looked on aghast as four prickly tarantulas dropped to the soil. He was so compelled to peer into the death trap, but Casey grasped his shirt and dragged him away.

"Don't you even think about it, Bartowski! Stay put! I don't need you falling in there, because I know you _would!"_

_"Bravo! A brilliant display of heroics! Thank you for not killing my boa constrictor! One minute! Fifty-nine, fifty-eight…fifty-seven…you don't know where my hunter is hiding…fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight…"_ Ochoa's voice crackled over the speakers.

Chuck glanced all around. "What do we do now?" He demanded.

Casey's gaze fell upon another open pathway.

"Now we run for our damn lives!"

Disregarding every branch and tree walloping them from all angles, they ran as fast as possible, with Chuck taking the lead. He saw the yellow flag on a pole; it was situated atop a pile of mossy, wet rocks. A shot rang out and just missed his earlobe.

"Oh my God! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna go deaf!"

"Just keep running, Chuck!" Sarah cried. She tucked her upper body low as she nearly flew behind Casey.

Casey shortened his stature to dodge bullets and pushed Chuck ahead. There was no time to verify the hunter's exact position, but he was able to buy out time. He heard the distant cock of the rifle as the hunter emptied his shells. He tried to anticipate his next target…it was going to be Sarah. Casey grabbed her free arm and pulled her against him. He wrapped himself around her. Sarah was startled, but had the sense to know what he was about to do. He winked at her and glanced to their left. He threw his body down to the ground and they tumbled haphazardly. The maneuver dragged Chuck with them until he was practically invisible inside a dense bush. The hunter's aim had been thwarted and his next shot flew over their heads. The one following almost destroyed Casey's buttocks. Chuck scrambled up. He couldn't pay attention to the prickly thorns that tore at his skin. Casey and Sarah had saved his life again and he was desperate to make it to the flag.

"I'm almost there! Come on!"

Chuck made a wild dash beside the rock, but to his horror he realized he couldn't reach the flag. Casey and Sarah crashed against him. Casey snapped his fingers at Sarah and she immediately positioned herself in front of him.

"Who are you, _Fonzie?"_ Chuck blurted out in a panic.

Casey rolled his eyes and gripped her waist. He looked at Chuck.

"I need your arm! Follow my lead…1, 2, _alley oop!"_

Chuck and Casey both sent her into the air and she reached up and snatched the flag just as another shot fired. Casey and Chuck staggered backwards. Chuck couldn't bear to look up, thinking Sarah was hit, but Sarah stumbled onto the grass and clutched the flag with both hands. There was a large bullet hole in the center, but she was unscathed.

"_END OF TEST ONE! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SURVIVED!"_

Ochoa drove up alongside them in a jeep and holding a martini. The 'hunter' was next to him and very disgruntled. He wanted to do them in right there, but Ochoa lowered the hunter's gun barrel.

"Relax, my friend! You'll still be _paid_ for your services. That was quite an action packed romp, wouldn't you agree, Major?"

Casey, Chuck and Sarah situated themselves against the rocks and doubled over to take deep gulps of air. Casey rose up and his eyes flashed angrily.

"Is that _all_ you got, Ochoa? What kind of hunter is that? He couldn't shoot a target if it were five feet away!"

Chuck grimaced and jabbed his ribs. "Casey, _stop!_ Don't provoke him!"

Casey actually laughed aloud and it unnerved Chuck. The oddest things tickled that man's funny bone. "He knows exactly what I'm talking about, Chuck. This isn't the end of it. Not by a long shot."

Ochoa stood up in the jeep and leaned over the guardrail. "Indeed I do, Major. As the hunt grows more daring, so will the efficiency of my hunters. Let's see how well you fare in water!"

Ochoa pointed over the rocks. "You have five minutes to rest here and then another twenty to cross the river…look out for slippery stones…waterfalls… and who knows what else may just attack?" He said snidely. "I'm really enjoying myself, you should too! Oh and _by the way_…if I were you, I'd make sure not to get that collar too wet, it may just…I don't know, _short circuit?"_

Ochoa slapped the rail. The hunter started up the jeep and sped down an opposite path. Chuck turned to Casey angrily.

"What's the matter with you? Why did you egg him on like that?"

"Stifle it, Bartowski! Do you really think Ochoa's gonna let us off this island _alive?_ Even if we do make it, this is all part of the sick game. He's prepared it to his liking and nothing is gonna change that. Now stand back and rest those puny muscles, Olive Oyl, you've got three minutes."

Chuck groaned at yet another cruel remark and looked in Sarah's direction. Her stupor was wearing off, but she didn't look well at all. She rested her forehead and hands against the cool rock and kept her eyes closed. Her blood coursed hotly through her veins and her pulse beat frantically from the exertion. She couldn't quit the hunt; she had to make sure to remain alert to Chuck's safety. That was all that mattered. She knew deep down that Casey felt the same way. Chuck's life depended on their survival and Casey and she were both willing to do anything to protect him. She smiled at Chuck and he glanced at her pitiably. She would have to apologize for any out of character behavior later on. She raised her free arm into a crevice to begin her climb.

"We have a minute and a half…let's get a head start."

Casey grunted in approval and followed closely behind her. The cool breezes from the water relaxed them as they clamored to the top of the small crag. They gazed across the riverbed and Chuck waved his hand toward the center.

"I see the flag…_oh man!_ We're gonna have to get across to that dam! I see stairs leading up to it. They're hidden behind some bushes. That's the waterfall! It's man made."

The footpath across the summit of the dam was narrow and the drop was lengthy and steep. Crystal clear water gushed forth in raging torrents and its pressure alone was liable to kill a man should he lose his footing. Casey squinted at the surroundings. His body was inflamed with tiny, sharp pains. Twenty years ago he would have manipulated this obstacle course without stopping for a breath. Casey cleared his head from his self-pitying 'old man' thoughts. He was not about to become the old load they had to drag along. He was the leader of the team and it was his responsibility to see them through it. He could only imagine what was to come on the next test.

The collar annoyed him beyond belief. When he was still in the chamber he tried his best to find a slot to dismantle it, but it was solid around his neck. He would have to take Ochoa's bluff as fact and keep it dry. He suddenly thought of Layla. Ochoa was a dead man if he dared harm her again. He stared at Chuck and Sarah and then toward the direction of Ochoa's Villa. Its hypocritical steeple poked through the wild trees.

'_I have to live for them…and I have to live for you, Layla. I won't leave you behind again, baby.'_

He allowed himself to bask in an array of warm thoughts about her and it calmed his heart. He then shook the chains in a commandeering manner once more.

"Let's go, Team Bartowski, we now have _nineteen_ minutes exactly."


	9. Slip and slide

**Chapter 9: Slip and Slide**

"I'm telling you Casey, Ochie was bluffing! He worked your collar by remote control, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Those things only have the capacity to activate from certain distances…like say…six hundred feet. We are _way _beyond that now."

"Chuck, this isn't a _dog _collar. I'm not gonna roll over and beg for treats. It's a state of the art collar that's designed to slice my neck with a laser…among other things, okay?"

Chuck quieted down, trying not to imagine such a horrendous death. As cruel as the thought was, he was glad Sarah wasn't the one collared. He turned to look at her. She had been very silent in the last few minutes, though Sarah wasn't the most talkative person in the world anyway. Chuck was relieved to see the color returning to her cheeks and her eyes didn't have the same drugged up quality as earlier. He realized that she was fighting its effects; any other woman would have been passed out long ago.

Casey stopped gruffly. They were going to have to wade over to a deeper section of the channel to get to the stairwell. The cold water was a welcome relief to the tropical heat that burned through their pores and caused Casey to sweat massively all over. He just wanted to tear his clothes right clothes off, but he wasn't Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes, nor was he holed up in the Turkish steam bath torture room with Layla.

He kept the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his biceps and using his arm that was attached to Sarah's, he loosened two more buttons from the collar. This naturally prompted Chuck to call him Tom Selleck's hairy love child. Casey somewhat admired Chuck's keen ability to stay his moronic self even in the face of these bizarre adversities, but he would never…_ever_…tell him that. He veered toward the right, dragging Chuck with him.

"Where are you going, Casey?"

"Deeper…we have to get as close to the stairs as possible, I don't trust those trees on the other side, who knows what Ochoa's hooked up in there?"

"Probably the good old rope net in the tree gag."

"Which no doubt _you_ would stumble into." Casey sneered.

Chuck sighed and the water rushed up to their hips as they surged forward. Five minutes passed and so far…not a peep or a trap to be found. Chuck didn't know what traps Ochoa could possibly put into the water so he assumed they were safe for now.

**-Oo-**

Layla was dumped into the moldering wine cellar beneath Ochoa's Villa. She vaguely had in mind to smash every last bottle of vintage he had just for kicks, but decided against it. Every five minutes his lumbering guard ogled her from between the small window on the entrance. She was desperate to know how Casey and his team fared in the hunt, but Ochoa gave no word. As expected, it was cool and damp in the cellar, and had the feel of a medieval torture chamber with its mossy stones and heavy wooden wine casks and receptacles. She rubbed her bare arms and glanced around for an escape. The only way out was through a thick doorway with round, iron handles. At this point she had only one opportunity. She reached behind her belt and pulled out the remote control.

"Now to see how this little toy works." She muttered.

Ochoa was never big on technology and sure enough, there was an enable/disable button on the front. Layla chuckled, and immediately pressed 'disable.' Casey was a free man, but he didn't know it as yet. She had seen Ochoa testing his collars on animals, and being the power hungry fiend that he was, he refused to have an automatic setting. Layla rummaged through the wine bottles and pulled out the oldest Cabernet she could find.

"_1914_…the war to end all wars! _Not_ by a long shot!"

She popped the cork and took a deep swig, then poured it over the remote until it fizzled out and died. She kicked the remote under the table. She sighed and sat down on a tiny wooden stool in the corner. The whips on her back were stinging again, but she had to ignore them. She toyed with the bottle in her hands and caught the guard leering again. Layla raised the bottle to her lips with a devious smile and wink. If she could get him to release her, there was still a way for her to contact her CIA team. Under the zebra striped bed in Ochoa's den, she had hidden a two-way transmitter within the box springs. She could always count on Ochoa to be imprudent when it came to his personal space. Ochoa was a deviously handsome dimwit, but he was still smart enough to capture Casey and his team. It was his growing insanity Layla feared most. The guard had turned away. She adjusted her dress top lower and poured a goblet full of wine, and then casually strode toward him.

**-Oo-**

"A couple more feet and we've almost made it, good thing this is the shallow end, right? I hope it stays that way." Chuck said. The water had only risen up to their waists.

"Right Chuck, almost there…" Sarah sighed. Her body felt as heavy as stone. She imagined she was wading through jello, rather than water. Something about this part of the trek didn't feel right.

Sarah looked across the basin and noticed the water grow agitated from where they had crossed. She tapped Casey.

"Casey, look! Something's out there!"

Casey and Chuck whipped around and Chuck let out a holler. "I knew it! We're in piranha infested waters! They're gonna eat us to the bone! Oh my God…_run for it!"_

Chuck thrashed his arms and raced forward, dragging Casey and Sarah behind him. Casey stumbled over loose stones and tripped face down in the water.

_"Oh no!_ The collar!" Sarah screamed. She and Chuck jerked Casey out of the water. He was wet and furious, but unscathed.

The outline of a ferocious school of fish grew more visible. Casey grasped Chuck by the arms.

"Don't go crazy and splash around! Piranhas are attracted to noise and commotion! I got an idea!"

"So do I, Casey! And it's called, _let's get the hell out of here!"_

Chuck tried to lunge forward again but Sarah pulled him back. "Chuck, wait! I get it! If Ochoa let loose starving piranhas they'll be liable to eat through anything right?"

"Yeah! My _flesh!_ Oh God, here they come!"

Casey yanked Chuck's arm down. "Ball your hand into a fist and keep the chained one under water, don't move a muscle until I tell you to!"

"Are you crazy! I won't have muscles left to move…_gahh!_ I felt one! Casey, they'll eat us whole!"

"Shut up, Chuck!" Casey glowered at him. Casey glanced at them both. "When I say…_grrr!_ Damn! _That hurt!_…"

Chuck nodded profusely. "Okay…that's kind of a long warning, but I got it! Now is that…_grrr?_ Or _gahh?_ Or _rrr?_ _Damn_ _that hurt?"_

Casey was extremely tempted to strangle the nerd, but kept his composure.

"When I say _go_, you start shaking the chains underwater, but not your body! They'll attack whatever's moving…give or take a few nips and tucks…"

"Casey, I don't need piranha plastic surgery! _Ouch! _Even Joan Rivers wouldn't go for this!_"_

"Just do as I say, Chuck, keep your free arm up in the air! They've schooled around us now, now…"

_"Go!"_ Sarah screamed out, thrashing the chain tightly. Casey did the same, feeling the razor sharp teeth biting his arms.

"They're gonna see the blood and have a feeding frenzy!" Chuck cried out.

"He's right! Forget it. On the count of three, we have to run for it!" Sarah decided. One…two…_three!"_

The trio took off as fast as they could, startling the ravenous fish.

_"Oww!_ My leg!" Sarah screamed out as three piranhas attacked her. She had forgotten the bone spikes had punctured it and the wound was attracting the fish toward her calf. She fell forward, but Casey pulled her back before she could go under.

"Jump on me, Walker! _Do it!" _He ordered.

Sarah turned in front of Casey and leaped up fast, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her drew her free arm across his back. The fish took to nipping angrily at Casey and Chuck instead.

"They got my rear!" Chuck moaned and kept on running, shaking one particularly feisty fish off his butt cheek. The water level was getting lower and the piranhas held back from getting too close to the water's edge.

"I think they'll want more than _hors d'oeuvres!"_ Casey sneered.

Chuck gritted his teeth and threw himself onto the solid land. "Oh, so I guess _you're_ the main course? I bet I taste better! They might choke on all that _sugarbear_ fur! Glad to see you pay so much attention to the lower posterior region of my anatomy!"

"Why you _no good _moron!_ I'll kill…"_

Sarah slid off Casey and grasped his chest. She held him back from giving Chuck the pummeling of his life.

_"Stop it!_ The _both_ of you!" She winced. "We got out and now we have to keep moving, we have less than ten minutes!"

Sarah turned abruptly and Casey and Chuck hiked with her up the stone stairwell.

"Casey, your collar didn't short circuit or anything? What happened?"

"Either Ochoa was lying." He smiled slightly. "Or my Layla disabled the remote."

"I go with number two. She's a slick chick." Chuck gasped. His body stung everywhere and he counted the fingers on his hands. There were still ten digits and all intact. His boots were solid, so he wouldn't be missing any toes. He looked at the chains distressed.

"So much for metal eating piranhas. They didn't make a dent."

"Not true, Chuck. Look closer…if we apply just the right amount of pressure, we may be able to break it. But you're right. It was a long shot. We may have been chewed through before the chains were. _Damn!"_ Casey admitted. He held them back from going further.

"Hold on, let Sarah go ahead first. If she slips, then we'll be able to pick her up easier than if you or I do, Chuck."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but complied. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Casey."

She was in fact, relieved and surprised that Casey was being so considerate. Her body was growing weaker by the minute. She couldn't be sure if it was her own exhaustion, or a final hurrah from the side effects of the drugs. They eventually came to the summit of the dam; they could barely hear themselves over the pounding water. Chuck looked at the waterfall fearfully.

"The walls of this dam are slippery! Be careful everyone."

Sarah took the lead as planned and grasped the iron bar of the footpath. The pressure underfoot nearly knocked her off balance, but Casey steadied her.

"You can do this, Walker…no heroics, but get yourself across as fast as possible."

Sarah took a deep breath and eased her way forward. Casey jostled on Chuck's shackle aggravated.

"Will you stop fidgeting. Keep one foot in front of the other and hold tight to the rail."

"I _am,_ Casey." Chuck kept observing the dam, every few seconds it would chip, flake and crumble. "Something is not right with this wall."

"Who cares as long as we get through it? Whatever you do, don't look down!"

Chuck only heard the words _'look down'_ and he leaned over just in time to miss a whizzing arrow. Casey quickly ducked and Chuck froze, still bent forward. He had to fight the urge to let go of the bar and cover his head with fright.

"Oh my God! It's been eight minutes already! They're gonna kill us!"

Casey heaved Chuck to a standing position. He nudged Sarah to move faster. "Come on, Walker! The hunt started!"

"I'm trying, Casey! I'm getting dizzy…" She swooned. Casey grabbed Sarah's waist and he doubled over with her as two more arrows flew overhead.

_"Gahh!_ They're shooting us from all sides!" Chuck exclaimed. "The flag is not too far! Go for it, Sarah!"

Chuck stumbled ahead, and nearly lost his balance on the walkway, he suddenly found that his boot was stuck in a loose hole of the wall and more portions of concrete tore off.

_"Augh! _This wall was built to collapse, Casey! I'm stuck!"

Chuck's slanted forward and back on the edge and he waved his arms around crazily. Casey clung to the back of his shirt to keep him from pulling them all downward to certain death. A blast of water burst out in front of Sarah and she jumped backwards. The pressure would have sent her flying off the footpath.

"Casey! He's right! This whole thing is crumbling!"

"Then let's move it!"

"This guy watched the Temple of Doom way too many times!" Chuck shouted.

Arrows started flying at them at lightning speed, and Casey decided that Ochoa was purposely telling his hunters to _miss_ their targets. He wanted to crush them in the waterfall. Sarah hurried toward the middle of the walkway and grabbed the yellow flag. She waved it around.

"I got it! Come on!"

Another burst of water shot out from the dam right under Chuck's legs and he fell.

_"Oh crap!_ Here I go again!" Casey shouted as his body lurched down.

He immediately grappled for the bars, painfully forcing Sarah's arm up with his and Sarah grabbed tight with her other free arm. She wrapped her legs around the lower portion of it. Chuck dangled less than a foot from the spewing waterfall, getting soaked to the skins and the pressure pelted his body. He had to trust that Casey would not let him fall. He swung his free arm up and grasped Casey's upper arm.

"I'm not gonna let you drop me!" Chuck shouted.

"I'm _not_ gonna drop you, Chuck! Now hold tight!" Casey roared over the water.

Sarah got on her knees beside Casey and lowered her free arm down toward Chuck as best she could.

"You could do this, Chuck!"

"Sarah! Get back up there! You'll be hurt!"

"No! Better me than you, now we're going to pull you up!"

Sarah looked grimly at Casey. "We can't let him go, Casey."

_"I said I wouldn't,_ Sarah." He gritted his teeth from frustration and soreness.

To prove himself, Casey jerked his body lower to get a better hold on him. He raised Chuck up with difficulty until he was half strewn over the walkway. Chuck latched onto the bars, nearly sobbing.

"Thank you! _Thank you!_ I owe you one!_"_ He laughed loudly.

They all stood back for a moment with breathless anticipation for Ochoa's next trick. Casey wanted to unscrew his arms from their sockets and just toss them anywhere to get rid of the aches. They didn't have to wait long for the next obstacle. They felt extreme rumblings under foot and the concrete walls started to quake.

"Run for it!" Casey yelled.

Sensing Sarah's exhaustion, Casey tossed her over his shoulder and scurried down the rest of the walkway. He was nearly sliding across with Chuck panting closely at his heels. The structure was gradually bursting underneath them. Casey spotted a lush clearing and dove straight for it. His body jetted across the squelchy grass with Chuck and Sarah careening behind him like a slip and slide game. Casey caught himself before he smashed into a tree and tumbled away from it. Chuck and Sarah collapsed on their backs and they all crawled to their knees. They watched in awe as the walls caved in and huge chunks of mortar and concrete smashed into the ravine below. The water pressure ebbed, until eventually it stopped flowing. Ochoa's voice echoed around them.

_"That was muy spectacular, amigos! I have been underestimating you, Casey! I must be careful not to make the same mistake again! I'm sorry to have ruined my waterfall, but it saves on the water bills! Please carry on until you get to the top of the cliff where you find that I have been a most generous host!"_

The trio wearily stood up and did their best wiping off the mud and grass stains from their clothing. Ochoa didn't give them a time limit, nor tell them there was a hunter waiting after twenty minutes; however, they knew better to think it would be a smooth course through the remainder of the tropical forest. Too tired to even speak to one another, they started forward with urgency.


	10. Curare

**Chapter 10: Curare**

Layla was forced to giggle and play lustful as Ochoa's guard greedily swooped her in his arms and threw her over his shoulders like a Neanderthal. After a few goblets of fine wine and sultry promises of passion, she had demanded that Eduardo whisk her away up to Ochoa's den. She convinced him that it would be more daring, and the more daring it was, the faster the heart pumped… Eduardo ate up the rest of her flirtations like a dog chewing a bone.

Ochoa's den was situated on the first floor of the Villa and faced the back of the building where the tropical forest began. Eduardo thrust her into the room and lowered her to the floor. She pretended to stumble over the tiger skin rug and backed against Ochoa's large, Oakwood rifle closet. In the first drawer of the lower cabinet, Ochoa kept a velvet bag of rare poisons he had used in Africa to kill charging animals. Eduardo was impatient, but Layla held him off.

"You _beast!_ Go to the bed and make yourself comfortable! I want to pour us a drink from the bar…a little tequila will really get me going." She played with his shirt buttons and then tore it wide open. When he attempted to grab for her again, she shoved him back.

"I mean it! Now _ándale!"_ She demanded.

Eduardo complied and jumped into the zebra striped bed. While he struggled with his clothes, Layla rifled through the cabinet and pulled out the tiny curare bottle. She quickly mixed two drinks at the bar and brought them over. She handed him the drink in her right hand. Eduardo eyed her feverishly.

"I was watching you, señorita. You put something in my drink."

Layla looked at him aghast. "Now why would I do that?"

"To subdue me! I was warned of your little tricks!"

Layla knew that as soon he was finished, Eduardo would report to Ochoa and have her killed. He obviously was dumb enough to fall for her trick in the wine cellar.

She pursed her lips annoyed and let out a puff of air.

"Were you now? _Fine_…then take this one." Layla wagged the drink in her left hand before him, but Eduardo wasn't going to be played a fool.

"No! _You_ take that one! I'll take the other."

Layla brought the crystal glass to her lips and gulped it.

"Suit yourself, amigo." Just as she was about to take another sip, Eduardo stopped her.

"Wait…I changed my mind! Give me that one!"

Layla rolled her eyes at his nonsense. "Okay, but can you please drink something before I fall out of the mood, señor?"

Eduardo kissed her neck, and then gulped down the tequila rapidly from the glass in her left hand. Layla smiled and set him down on the bed. She massaged his stomach.

"Just close your eyes, and soon you won't feel a thing…" She raised a sharp letter opener that dripped with the poison and jabbed him in the chest.

Eduardo opened his mouth wide and grasped his chest from a sudden throbbing.

"You _bruja!_ You tricked me! How…but you…_drank…"_

"Did I _really_ drink, Eduardo?" She purred. "Your greedy eyes must have been playing tricks on you…or maybe you were too busy staring at my boobs to notice. Curare will barely have effect taken _orally..._it has to go _directly_ into the blood stream._" _She grinned.

Eduardo's body soon went into a convulsion and stiffened. This was a part of the job that Layla somewhat detested, all the killing and violence. She wiped her collarbone where his mushy lips touched her, then pulled the blanket over his face. She had to work fast, before Ochoa realized she was gone and that he no longer had the remote. She dove under the bed and rummaged for her communicator.

_"This is Agent Calderon to base, I have a situation at present…can you read me?"_

Within the next few minutes, Layla secured her position and explained about Casey and the NSA's involvement. Just as she clicked off, she heard voices in the hall right outside the door. She shoved it back under the box spring and raced toward the back window. Ochoa entered his den angrily before she could climb out.

"I should have known you would seduce him, Layla!" He walked up to the wine glasses and sniffed them, then noticed the letter opener with spots of blood upon it.

"You killed him with my special curare! You little devil! Ochoa snapped for his men and they ran in and grasped her.

"Come with me, you are still my head servant at the resort and I need you to serve up a special lunch! Bring her to the hillside!"

Ochoa stomped away and the men dragged her out of the room.

**-Oo-**

Casey, Chuck, and Sarah maneuvered through the underbrush with a little less stamina than earlier. They were all winded from Ochoa's obstacles and Casey wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next twenty-four hours. As they approached another clearing, Chuck stopped them in their tracks.

"Everybody, quiet…listen. Do you hear that?"

"All I hear are toucans cawing and insects buzzing in my ears, Chuck." Casey snarled.

"No really…it's like something…_growling_…but I know it's not you because I haven't spoken yet…it could be my stomach…"

That elicited a grunt from Casey, but then Sarah silenced him and pointed. "Chuck's right!" She whispered, it's coming from behind those trees."

Chuck was ready to run back, but he held his ground. He had to stop behaving like the baby of the team. "We can't have a real hunt without animals, can we?" He laughed slightly.

Casey pushed forward. "If there is an animal there, it would have sprang on us already, I'm going in."

As Casey advanced through the trees, a loud roar erupted and a hefty, ferocious tiger leaped at him. Casey yelled and staggered back as the claws swiped his chest. He knocked the others down.

_"Damn!_ That cat almost tore my face off! Stay back!" His chest was scratched and sore.

"Oh my God! Look, he's chained to the tree! We can get away from it!"

"But Chuck, we have to keep moving in this exact direction, he's bound to get one of us." Sarah said nervously. Dealing with wild animals never actually came up in her CIA training.

The tiger's vibrant, yellow eyes eyed them hungrily. He pawed at the grass and low, guttural growls welled up from deep within his striped throat. He wasn't going to let them pass without having his dinner. Casey kept still and bade Chuck and Sarah to do the same.

"I have an idea." He spoke from the side of his mouth. "Everybody, follow my lead and do exactly as I do."

"And what exactly are you gonna do?" Chuck smiled at the tiger. "I _uhh_…always loved your cereal…_heh heh…"_ The tiger attempted to lunge for them again.

_"Aughh!_ Whatever it is, do it fast!"

Casey started walking very slowly around the circumference of the tree. The tiger followed after them, just as stealthy. Chuck grew excited.

"I get it now! He's wrapping the chain around the trunk."

"Great, then we can get away." Sarah replied.

"Pipe down and _no_ sudden moves." Casey demanded. He kept himself closer toward the tiger than the rest. If Tony were going to pounce, he would make sure it grabbed him first.

After two rotations, Casey nudged them. "Alright…_now_…we run for it!"

Casey sprinted off with the others trailing behind. The tiger was furious over being tricked and as he tried to make chase, the chain immediately halted him by his neck. He roared and struggled, but the fetters were stronger than he was. The trio raced beyond the trees and suddenly found themselves surrounded by glorious blue skies. They were no longer in the forest, but on a wide, grassy hillside that had a precipitous slope.

A large tent was set up on the hill and alongside it was a long, white table. The smell of steaming foods wafted toward them and Chuck's stomach growled.

"Okay, now _that_ was me…not the tiger. I'm starving, is that for us?"

Ochoa drove up to the table in his jeep with two guards and Layla in the middle. He jumped out when it came to an abrupt stop and dragged Layla after him. He kept a small pistol on her middle back. Casey rushed toward them, jerking the others behind him.

"Ochoa! What is all this now?"

Ochoa laughed. "I told you I was a generous host! This is your lunch, and I brought my _best_ assistant to serve you. You must eat up! You need your strength. I have also prepared this tent for you to rest for a while."

The guards approached them with rifles and nudged them to the tables. Ochoa came and unlocked the shackles from their wrists. He removed Casey's collar and Casey restrained himself from letting out a shout of relief.

"You won't be needing _this _anymore…thanks to your Latina lover over here. Do you know she poisoned one of my favorite guardsmen, Eduardo? That was not very kind of her…but I imagine she makes _you_ proud, Major Casey."

Ochoa handed Layla a medical kit from his jeep. "Why don't you patch your boy up a little? He's looking much worse for wear than I remember."

Casey glared at him, but said nothing. Layla was drawn out and defeated and she solemnly served up their food. As her serving ladle passed over his plate, he gently brushed her arm and caught her eye. She smiled weakly and then kept looking beyond the hillside and over the cliffs. Casey remembered that she had other Agents stationed out there. When she finished she took the medical supplies and tended to the tiger scratches.

"How do we know this food isn't poisoned, Ochoa?" Sarah asked, moving the meat and rice around with her fork. Her appetite was returning.

"Because it isn't…that would not be sportsmanlike, would it? This hunt is no fun with exhausted animals. _¡Come! _This may very well be your last meal. Layla, pour them some vino!"

Layla did as she was told and when she poured Casey's glass she speedily tapped her nail against it using the old Morse code distress signal. Casey ducked his head to hide his smirk. She had been able to get in contact with her team. Chuck munched on the nachos and guacamole and started thinking about his sister. If he made it out of this alive, he was going to have to explain to Ellie why he looked like he was thrown into a lion pit. He decided to tell her that the resort offered a hiking tour and that his group got a little lost in the forest. The fib would also have to include Sarah…and he usually got by with using the spastic colon ruse when all else failed. The team ate in silence, keeping weary gazes on the guards that stood at attention beside the jeep with their rifles at the ready. Layla had to stand by as well, while Ochoa kept his gun muzzle pressed against her waist.

Casey watched her intensely. They had been parted for so long, save for a brief reunion in two thousand, There wasn't much talking with her then, it was all official business. It was the year before the world turned upside down with the Trade-center tragedy. He had immediately afterward been sent to Afghanistan to smoke out warlords for two years. Right now Casey wanted to take her away somewhere private and just converse, talk until he was blue in the face. He wanted to open up and spill his guts about his current action packed life and troubled conscience. He was confident she would make whatever pain he had go away…at least for a little while. He had not forgotten how adept she was at that and how much he loved her for it. She had been the only woman he had shared his life story with.

Casey glanced at Chuck and Sarah pensively. He still wondered what was going to become of Chuck once the new Intersect was installed and how Sarah was going to react to the NSA's incendiary plan of action against the asset.

_'Why wonder? You have your orders to do what you do best!'_ He thought with a sudden regret.

What was the point of going nuts trying to keep the nerd alive when he was going to have to plug a hole in his head sooner or later? It was starting not to make sense to him. What really unnerved him was that he actually _liked_ Chuck and didn't want to see him come to harm. It was getting more difficult to be so callous and cruel on a daily basis. Casey was worn out. Layla may have had x-ray eyes to see his heart, but he didn't need anyone to tell him that it still beat and relentlessly pricked him with all sorts of genuine _human_ emotions.

When their food was finished, Layla came forward to clear the plates. As she stacked them, she quickly let fall a small bottle in Casey's lap. It was the curare she had used on Eduardo. Casey palmed it and furtively placed it in his pocket. She knew at some point he would find a use for it.

"_Stand up!_ I have made a decision, Major." Ochoa approached them and lined them up alongside the edge of the hill.

"I have decided that three is a crowd…now I want you to pick only _one_ partner Major…the _blonde?_ Or the_ brunette?"_

He shoved Chuck and Sarah away from him and they faced Casey. Sarah's expression already told him what he had to do.

Casey raised his arm and he pointed. "I choose Chuck."

Chuck gaped at him, and then quickly looked down and ran his boots across the dirt. He was behaving like a coward. He had to be grateful that Sarah was not chosen. She was still weakened from the drugs and he didn't want anything to happen to her. Chuck glanced up and bravely walked to Casey's side. He narrowed his eyes in the harsh sunlight and sneered. He was ready for this.

"Go ahead Ochoa…_make our day!"_


	11. Jack and Jill

**Chapter 11: Jack and Jill**

Chuck and Casey stood side-by-side glaring at Ochoa from the edge of the hillside. Chuck's body tensed. He understood why Casey picked him to finish this absurd hunt, but he still feared for Sarah's life in Ochoa's hands. One of Ochoa's guards shackled his wrist to Casey and stepped aside as Ochoa prepared to give directions.

"This next obstacle is deceptively simple, Major Casey. The hunter is hidden somewhere within this hillside, any place of his choosing. He will be no closer than two hundred yards."

"What are we supposed to do now, play Jack and Jill?" Casey grumbled.

"Very intuitive, Major Casey. That is precisely the plan! Take a look down below. This time my hunter will start shooting immediately after you take off."

Ochoa pointed to the bottom of the steep hill and they saw a lone flagpole with a yellow flag swaying in the breeze. The same breeze was drying up the sweat beads along Chuck's head. Ochoa expected them to just make a daring run for it out in the open while tumbling down the slope in a direct line of fire.

"_Ouch_…I'm gonna break more than my crown." Chuck murmured. "My _tibula, fibula, pelvis…"_

He wiped his mouth with his free hand and glanced all around, an unusual idea struck him, but there was no time to warn Casey. He was going to have to take the lead with this one.

Ochoa walked away from them and motioned for his guards to grab both Sarah and Layla. They did so with pleasure and shoved their arms behind their backs tightly until they were both forced to cry out from pain. Both women were battered, so it didn't take too long to make them squeal. Casey growled and almost rushed ahead, but Chuck wisely held him back.

"Remember what you told me? _No heroics,_ Casey…we have a hunt to finish." Chuck warned him.

Casey eyed him, but kept silent. Both women also knew better than to attempt an escape. Still, Layla would have to tell Sarah that her team had been alerted. The hunt would be coming to an end soon, though hopefully not as the end to John Casey or Chuck Bartowski.

Ochoa raised his pistol in the air as a signal to start. _"On your Mark!"_

Casey dragged Chuck nearer to the edge, but Chuck hung back. When Casey peered at him confused, Chuck shook his head quickly and craned his neck toward the lunch set up.

"_Get set!"_ Ochoa shouted.

Chuck skipped a few steps back, making it appear that he wanted a running head start. Casey decided to trust Chuck's instincts and he played along.

"_GO!"_ Ochoa fired the pistol into the sky.

Chuck swung around and made a crazy dash toward the lunch table and Casey suddenly understood what his plan was. They instantly overturned the large table, clattering dishes and food trays to the ground. The guards leaped back with Sarah and Layla and they all stared on amazed.

"You can do it, baby! _Go boys!"_ Layla screamed in support. She felt like Cha-Cha jumping around at the drag race from 'Grease'.

"I take back what I said about Chuck…he is pretty adept in his own way." She whispered quickly to Sarah. Sarah smiled with pride.

"Chuck is _extremely_ brilliant…but not many people realize it." She replied. She was still nervous; the _boys_ weren't out of the woods yet.

**-Oo-**

Chuck and Casey sprinted forward while heaving the table to the edge. He and Casey clamored onto the underside of the tabletop and careened down the hill. Ochoa raced to the edge in shock. He waved his hand in the air. It was time for the hunter to take his shots.

Chuck grasped one table leg with all his might and sat up on his knees. Casey was directly behind him and grasped one of the back table legs. His grip was so tight he thought it would crack off. The table bounced and skidded down the rocky hill.

"Is there anyway to steer this…_aughh!"_ A bullet shot out and blew off the table leg across from the one Chuck held.

"Chuck! Stay down…and keep moving your body, we have to confuse his aim!" Casey bellowed.

He jerked his body from left to right and up and down. Chuck imitated him, keeping his eyes focused ahead of him as the bullets whizzed past. He felt Casey jerk the chain. Another bullet flew out and barely missed Chuck's hand on the table leg. The leg snapped. Chuck nearly flew off the tabletop face first, but Casey yanked on him until he was lying backward between his legs, having missed sixth bullet.

"We're gonna have to get off this ride! We're hitting bottom! On three! _One…"_

Chuck fell into an instant panic as the table rumbled further downhill. He squirmed out of Casey's grasp and readied his body for the leap.

"_Two, three!" _He shouted hastily and flung himself off.

Casey let out a yell and soared after him. They were soon rolling like circus tumblers and tried to protect their heads with their free arms from the rough stones that jutted out from the grass. They finally came to a crashing halt alongside the flagpole. Chuck scrambled to his knees and reached up for it. He clutched the flag in his fist and collapsed onto Casey, gasping for life. He resignedly waved it in surrender for Ochoa to see and rolled over to check on Casey.

Casey had his eyes closed and remained motionless. His body was stiff with throbbing pains, cuts and scratches. He vaguely felt Chuck's presence leaning and panting over him. Chuck was genuinely concerned and thought he had bought the farm. It was only when he felt Chuck lean closer to his face that he responded. The nerd was ready to perform his own haphazard CPR. Casey's eyes flung open and he thrust him off with his last bit of strength.

"I'm not dead yet, Chuck! Back off!"

Chuck fell into a sitting position and shook the dust out of his hair. "_Yow! _Believe me, Casey, I was not thrilled to do that either…but if I had to, I would. And… I know you would do it for me, right?"

Casey grunted and rolled on his side so Chuck wouldn't see his face. Chuck smiled. That was an affirmative growl.

"Hey, I realize you're an NSA super soldier and all…but I'm done! I don't think any of us can take much more of this." Chuck asserted. "I've never seen you so beaten, Casey. I've never been this blasted either. I don't know how I'm gonna explain this to Ellie. I'll need at least three days recovery."

Casey rubbed a crick in his neck and slowly rose to his feet. "You tell her you got pummeled trying to participate in extreme sports…that's not far from the truth."

Ochoa's jeep zoomed alongside them and spattered dirt clumps on their clothes. He hopped out of the front seat with his guards and dragged Chuck and Casey into the seat.

"This has been a hunt of wonders! I've been much too soft. The next hunt will occur from the air, with the hunter using an automatic. It will all start from the seaside cliffs. Need I say more?"

Casey and Chuck sat side by side in the jeep and Casey raised his head exhausted and glared at Ochoa. Enough was enough.

"That's it, Ochoa! You had your fun and it's over now! You can't hunt us with an automatic, you know that's instant death!"

Ochoa grinned at the two of them. "Who said I was going to hunt _you?_ You're falling apart before my eyes. I've watched how you and the blonde have treated this young man. He is much more than a CIA or NSA partner. You are both vested in him in a certain way that forces you to make sure he's protected at all costs. For you, Major…the hunt is over. Later today, I go after Chuck, and Chuck _alone. _I allow you a few hours rest here and then we resume! Don't try any tricks, my guards will be stationed out front and watching you all."

Chuck's body stiffened and Casey gripped his wrist with a quick shake of his head to keep silent. That couldn't happen. Chuck would never make it. It wouldn't happen, not if Layla's reinforcements showed up. The rest of the jeep ride continued in tense silence until they pulled up to the top of the hillside where the women were. Chuck and Casey stumbled out to them. After loosening the shackles, Costa's guards shoved them and Sarah toward the giant tent. Sarah quickly led Chuck inside and laid him out on the sleeping bag. He was in the sorriest condition she had ever seen him in.

"I did it, Sarah…did you see me?" He gazed at her with wide golden eyes, like a proud little boy begging for acceptance.

Sarah brushed dirt and grass off his face and hair and tried to keep him from fidgeting. "Yes, Chuck, I saw that. You were fantastic. I knew you had something up your sleeve. I saw it in your face…that serious _'Chuck scowl'_ you've been putting on lately." She laughed and attempted a slight imitation.

Chuck smiled breezily. His body fell into a relaxed state, but it also forced him to finally be aware of the horrible pains he had sustained. He clasped her hand gently.

"I'm just glad it was me and not you, Sarah…I wouldn't have let that happen." Chuck let out a soft breath and closed his eyes; he was drifting off.

Sarah's eyes went glassy with tears and she shifted herself closer to him and stroked his chest. "I know you wouldn't have, Chuck. You're my hero…"

**-Oo-**

Outside, Casey hung back from embracing Layla and putting on a sentimental display for Ochoa. However Layla ran to him and grasped his shirt collar. She kissed him vigorously and then ran her hands down his chest until he felt something prick him just above his belt. The metal of a tiny blade ripped through his shirt. She pulled his face toward him again and whispered breathlessly in his ear.

"_The_ _Amazon…"_

Her foot grazed across his boot and the memories he needed flooded back to him. Layla pulled away serenely, but her heart burned with a fire only John Casey could extinguish. Casey just wanted to grab her and make a run for it, as far away as possible. Her smoldering glances had always sent his pulse racing and the years apart made no difference. Ochoa came closer suspiciously and wrenched her arm. Casey attempted to move in on him, but Layla raised her hand to back him off.

"She is my collateral. If I find that you have in any way disobeyed me, Major, I will kill her myself." Ochoa threatened.

Casey grasped his middle as a stitch of pain raced through his muscles. He looked up soberly.

"You…you can threaten us all you want. You know damn well you're not gonna let any of us out of here alive."

Ochoa looked at Casey coolly, but didn't respond. He loaded himself and Layla into the jeep. Casey didn't want those to be his last words to Layla, but he was going to have to buckle under and follow Ochoa's demands. Casey nodded to the guards and staggered toward the tent. He was in the most irritating state an Agent could find himself in–the big three W's–weaponless, worn out, and wounded. Regardless, he had to make sure Chuck stayed alive, and that meant keeping Walker out of harm and on her toes. For his own personal reasons, he also vowed that Layla would somehow get away safely. He wasn't going to waste another eighteen years without her.

As he approached the entrance, he patted his pocket. The curare bottle was not damaged. A tiny smirk flitted across his face and he pushed the flap away brusquely. Sarah and Chuck were passed out and Sarah was draped over Chuck's chest. Casey grimaced and lowered himself onto his sleeping bag. He tried to find a comfortable position. He finally rolled onto his left side, his back facing the lovebirds. He gazed out through the tent flaps and across the hill to the jungle.

_"The Amazon..." _He murmured._ "__Keepin' your head above water, Making a wave when you can..._ _Good times..."  
_

He hummed TV theme songs from his youth and fought back the urge to fall asleep. He would wait fifteen minutes and then make his next move. Inside the jungle lay just what he needed to perform his next trick and hopefully get them back to the resort.


	12. Chuck's way

**Chapter 12: Chuck's way**

"_And you knew what you were then! Girls were girls and men were men!…"_

Casey lifted his face from the sleeping bag and sat up abruptly. The fifteen minutes had passed by too slowly.

"_Dammit,_ if I sing one more Norman Lear theme I'll rip my lips off!" He muttered under his breath.

Chuck and Sarah were still snoozing; it would be best to leave them. However, Casey needed a little souvenir. He crawled toward their boots and took out the blade Layla slipped him. He had to work fast. He untied the tops of their laces and snipped off the hard ends, then did the same on his own. He made sure to re-tie their laces. Knowing Chuck, he would somehow find a way to trip over his suddenly loose boots. He shoved the tips into his pockets and then exited the tent. He raised his hands up to avert suspicion and moved slowly past the guards.

"Hey guys, it's a little inopportune …_but_…is there any place I can drop my load? Ya know what I mean? After that lunch and all that bouncing around, my bowels are all shook up."

The guards looked at him curiously, and sniggered amongst themselves. Casey rolled his eyes.

"Hey come on! It's only nature, all right? I really gotta go, but I need a little privacy, ya know? I was thinking if I could just trek up into the jungle over there behind those flowery trees."

The guards spoke among themselves in Spanish. They were trying to decide who would escort him. Casey grasped his stomach and hunched over.

"Look, unless you want me to fertilize this hill, I think you better hurry up and decide!"

They pushed the shortest and stoutest of the bunch toward him. He carried the largest shotgun.

"Jorge will take you, make it _rapido!"_ The tallest of them said annoyed and spat at his feet.

"Sure…hey, you got toilet paper around here?"

"Use the leaves!" Jorge snarled and ribbed him with the gun to get moving.

Casey shrugged and tramped forward. "Alrighty, but I hope I don't get poison ivy up my culo!"

**-Oo-**

Casey chuckled quietly as he heard Jorge cursing him for being an aggravating white boy among other vile things. When they at last came to the pathway, Jorge stopped walking. He stood alert and folded his arms tightly.

"Hurry up! And don't do your business too close, I don't want to smell it!"

Casey observed all the foliage until he spotted just what he needed. "Okay, Jorge, but I'll have you know I smell like roses!"

Jorge grunted and turned around. Casey sprinted further down the path and behind the flowering bushes. He crouched low and grasped a couple of thick, hollowed tule reeds and placed them near his feet. He examined the bushes and tore off a long stem with thin, ultra sharp thorns. He brushed his calloused thumb across one and immediately drew it back with a harsh click of his teeth, a drop of blood instantly spotted out. They would be perfect. He pulled out the lace tips from his pocket and the bottle of curare. He had to work speedily and very carefully; otherwise he would wind up killing himself in the process of creating incendiary blow darts.

Casey laughed to himself, remembering his high school days when he would make a bunch with drinking straws and his mother's sewing pins. He would then bring them to school and shoot at whoever peed him off. John Casey was a protector of nerds even then; though he would never admit that to Chuck. It wasn't like the jocks and jerks didn't deserve to get pinched. Those little suckers he created hurt like the dickens and tore right through all the corduroys and bell-bottoms. No one ever discovered he was the culprit. He even managed to cause the school's football team to lose big time when he shot his darts at the bowled legs of the bullies during vital parts of the game. He also sneakily used them on his favorite cheerleaders to get wondrous glimpses of the full moons.

When Casey, Layla and their spy team trekked across Latin America, they had to create their own version of the darts. Casey and Layla were sailing up the Amazon and dodging bullets and alligators. Their little darts proved mightier than the guns of the drug cartel they were pursuing. Layla had soothingly reminded him of his old trick before Ochoa took her away from him.

"My baby's the _best!"_ He sighed wistfully.

Casey oozed the syrupy curare onto a thorn and then stuffed it through the fluffed end of the shoelace tip. He rammed the thorn inside the plastic end until the coated end stuck out. He coated it again and then carefully placed the 'dart' into the hollow reed. He repeated the process three more times. Now he had to make sure they were out of sight. He placed the four reeds into the knife sheath making sure the fluffy end faced up. Casey unbuckled the front of his belt and trotted onto the path. He let out a huge gasp of relief and pretended to tuck in his shirt. Jorge glared at him with a devious smirk and cocked his head to light his cigar.

"I hope you buried your crap."

"Never have I heard more charming last words." Casey snarled and then raised the reed to his lips.

**-Oo-**

Even Casey was surprised with the potency of Ochoa's curare; the man must have used it on elephants. Jorge dropped to the ground with a gasp and clutched his neck. The thorn was jammed up to its end and he ripped it out, still leaving a small piece buried under his skin. Casey raced up and pushed him over face down. He wasn't going to have to use any other bone crunching method on him. Jorge was finished. Casey picked up the rifle. The sensation of the cool steel tingled through his hands and he felt revived. Casey strode out of the jungle path and hurried up the hill. The other guards had grown lax, and were seated a few feet away from the tent and engaged in a game of dominoes. They had placed their shotguns alongside them. Big mistake.

Casey rushed toward them and clicked the fore-end against the taller one's neck.

"Move one centimeter and both your heads will be rolling down this hill like Pelé's soccer ball! Get on your knees and put your hands behind your heads!"

The men gazed at Casey fearfully and slowly rose to that position, doing what they were told.

"_Chuck! Sarah!_ It's time to get a move on!" Casey bellowed.

There was a stirring inside the tent and Sarah's face peeked out. Her bleary eyes popped open and she hurried to her feet after shaking Chuck out of his stupor. She immediately ran for one of the shotguns and followed Casey's lead. Chuck yawned loudly and peered out at all the noise. He did a triple take and leaped up, only to get tangled within the tent. He skidded on the sleeping bag and tripped over his loose boots. The laces had come undone. Casey growled loudly. Chuck's rude awakening was just as he imagined. Chuck eventually unraveled himself from the tent flaps and crawled out behind Casey's legs.

"Wha…what happened? _How_ did you do that?"

"I got skills, Chuck. Now hurry up, grab that other shot gun and whatever you do, keep your finger _away_ from the trigger and don't point it in your face like an idiot!"

Chuck suddenly found himself frozen once again. He adamantly shook his head.

"I…_I can't!_ I know me…I'll wind up blowing someone's kneecaps off! Or my own face."

Casey resisted the urge to kick him. "Damn, Chuck! Do as I say! Pick up the rifle!"

Sarah frowned at Casey and helped Chuck to his feet. "Come on, I got your back…just grab it and hold the barrel _away_ from your face in the air…like this." She showed him what to do and then led him gently toward the guards. She kept a sharp eye upon them and waited patiently for Chuck to follow her direction.

"Good, now just take the strap and put it over your head...perfect."

"Isn't that _exactly _what _I _told you to do?" Casey sneered.

Chuck stuck his tongue out at him. "But you weren't nice about it!"

"Oh, can it, ya wuss."

"_Turd!"_

"Infant!"

"_Badger!"_

"Moron!"

"SHUT UP!" Sarah screeched. Her head still beat like a conga drum from the aftereffects of Ochoa's drugs.

Sarah yanked Chuck's arm and pulled him close to Casey until they all stood in a line, two shotguns aimed on the guards and one facing the sky.

"What are you going to do with us?" The taller of the two asked. He turned his head slightly. His dark mustache twitched uncontrollably out of fear.

"_Well_…I was thinking about pumping your bloodstream with enough curare to stop a herd…it really works, if you don't believe me, ask Jorge!_"_ Casey mused aloud. "But then again, it's too good to waste on you fellas."

The guards stiffened and moaned and Chuck tugged on Casey's sleeve.

"Casey, I refuse to stand here and watch you kill more unarmed men in cold blood."

Casey laid the rifle down and rummaged for his darts. "I'm sorry, Chuckles. Then why don't you go stand over _there?"_ He pointed further toward the jungle. "Make sure Jorge doesn't pull a Bernie and rise from the dead."

Casey shoved him away and prepared to blow the reed, but Sarah grabbed him.

"Wait…_don't._ Let's just do it Chuck's way."

Casey gazed at the two incredulously. "Since when the heck did Chuck have a _way?"_

Chuck marched over to the tent and yanked the chords out. "Since now! Bring them over here." He ordered.

"Whatever you say! Let's see how _you_ handle it."

Sarah tried to stop him. "No, don't do anything, Chuck. We'll handle this." She attempted to grab the guards, but Casey stopped her.

"No, Walker. He can handle himself, we're right here. I want to see _Chuck's_ way." He grinned spitefully at Chuck, but Chuck ignored him and went to work.

Five minutes later Chuck stood breathlessly over the two guards. They were bound with their ankles to their wrists and wrapped in the tent tarp up to their necks. Chuck wiped his hands proudly.

"There! That's _my_ way!"

Casey laughed snidely and dragged the two guards to the edge.

"Casey, wha…what are you doing?"

"Congratulations, brainiac. You made us waste seven minutes of Layla's precious life. Now…let me show you another brilliant _Casey way! _My money's on Pedro! The bigger they are, the harder they fall!"

"_AYEEE DIOS MIO!"_

The guards shrieked when Casey raised his leg and kicked them both down the hill. Their shouts and curses echoed across the valley. Chuck could only stare helplessly at the two, wincing and cringing with each bump and thump they made against the serrated ground. They were still alive when they reached the bottom, but he imagined every bone in their bodies was broken.

Casey smirked and wiped his hands, mocking Chuck. "I could get really nasty and let Tony the tiger loose."

Chuck waved his hands frantically and ran ahead. "Never mind! Layla needs us!"

Casey caught up to him. He was getting angrier by the second. "Well, golly gee, Chuck. I didn't _realize that!_ I was having so much fun watching you make burritos out of Ochoa's guards!" Casey shouted in his face. "For now on, you do things my way! I told you that at the start of this damn hunt."

"There's more than one way to skin a cat…" Chuck said glumly. "Think of it this way…at least you have extra ammunition, I know how much you love blow darts since you're such a _blow hard!"_

Casey lunged at him. "I'm about to blow one in your eye if you don't be quiet!"

Sarah ran between the two of them. "Enough already! Casey, I know you are stressed to the hilt, just…_go!_ Go ahead of us and cool off! We have the shotguns. We're not shackled any more."

"Sarah I…"

"Do as I say, Major! _Move it!_ Or I will tell Beckman that you deliberately put Chuck's life in danger by_ allowing_ him to apprehend Ochoa's guards." She demanded harshly.

Casey raised himself to full height and came to firm attention. Sarah was right. Even though there wasn't a chance the guards could have resisted Chuck, they could have easily posed a potential danger to the asset had they been smarter. Casey widened his eyes and angrily let out a breath of air, a common mannerism when he knew he was thwarted. He latched the rifle over his shoulder and stalked away from them. Chuck meekly approached Sarah, expecting to be yelled at next, but instead she took his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't realize I did something wrong."

"No, you did fine, Chuck. We don't always have to kill everyone we meet. Casey's just brutal like that. Come on. We're going to get out of this jungle soon enough. It looks like we came full circle. We're close to the resort again."

Chuck nodded and kept quiet. He massaged her palm against his. She had already started walking without dropping his hand and he didn't release hers.


	13. The biggest masquerade

**Chapter 13: The biggest masquerade**

_'All these two sugar sacks need are a seventies folk-rock soundtrack and breezy sunflowers and daisies to run through!'_ Casey thought snidely.

As he trudged fast ahead, Casey peered back at Chuck and Sarah's hand-holding and then turned away with disgust. However it was tempered by the swift rise of his brow and a pouting lip. A small jolt of sadness struck him, along with deep inner pangs of something he refused to call _jealousy_ and the desire to be that young and in love again. There was no denying anymore that Chuck and Sarah loved each other. It happened more often in his line of work than Casey cared to admit. Although he berated Sarah for her lack of emotional control, he had fallen victim to the love-bug twice. Layla being the first and fast-forward fifteen years later, he had hooked up with Ilsa. Brazen and beautiful Ilsa Trinchina had stolen his heart, but he had been severely let down when he realized it was all a lie. Did he really _love_ Ilsa? She was no more a Russian than he was an African native. She was a French spy. He had been in love with a fantasy, not the real woman.

'_Layla has no pretenses, even if she can change disguises like I change socks…'_

When she wanted you to know who she really was, she let you. Casey demanded that of her straightaway and she didn't mask her feelings for him.

**FLASHBACK: 1991 (Ochoa's Acapulco Mansion)**

The shoot out was finished and the NSA and CIA swarmed in like bees to honey to arrest the survivors and clean up the mess. After giving his handlers the run-down Casey immediately went to search for Layla. He had seen her getting treated in one of the ambulances, but then noticed she had left the stretcher when no one was looking. She was not on the grounds, so he entered the mansion and went to her maid quarters. He knocked loudly on her door.

"Open up, its Agent Casey."

"I don't know an Agent Casey." She replied firmly, but truthfully.

Casey sighed and kicked at the carpeting. "It's Agent John Casey, aka _'Donny McNeil'_ the drug dealer you're falling in love with."

The door hastily swung open. Layla's right arm was in a sling and she had changed into her jeans and a hot pink tank top. She was packing up her equipment. Layla glared at him.

"What are you talking about? _In love?_ Where did you get that crazy idea?"

Casey chuckled and entered the room. "I don't know, but it got you to open the door, didn't it? _Ahh_, come on, face it…_Rosa_ had the hots for me from day one."

Layla hoisted her bag to the bed, and kept quiet on that subject. She glanced at his soggy slacks.

"You are dripping chlorine all over Ochoa's fine white rugs."

"So what? These _fine_ furnishings are about to be confiscated anyway. It's all drug money."

"You know he got far away, don't you?" She replied coolly.

She grabbed a few toiletries off the desk and put them in a knapsack, then fiddled with her make-up. She finally glanced at him through the mirror. He stood at attention, but rocked casually on his heels with his arms crossed over his chest. Agent Casey was a fine specimen of a man. He had clear blue eyes and cherubic, clean-cut features as soft as a bunny, but she learned fast he could turn them to harsh stone on cue. He was immensely tall, and from 'Rosa's' frequent visits to the poolside and sauna, had the perfect balance of chiseled muscle and cozy softness that a woman adored…not to mention all that lovely chest hair. 'Rosa', in her limited English, jokingly called him, _'Magnum pie.'_ And he merely grumbled that he was glad he didn't sport a mustache or people would be asking for autographs.

Casey slowly and calculatingly walked up to her until he stood less than an inch behind her. She smelled of chlorine, but it was overpowered by Magnolia blossoms, a perfume that must have been her favorite…and it was rapidly becoming his. He leaned over her.

"I know he got away, but it was either apprehend him or save you. Which did you prefer?"

Layla raised her head and stared into the mirror again. "Thank you. I was really losing it down there."

"I know, you nearly clocked me into a woman when I first reached for you."

"I'm sorry, I thought it was one of those skeevy dealers trying to finish me off."

"I didn't mean to grab you so hard, I just had to get you to the surface fast and out of harm's way." Casey surprised himself with the admission. The whole sting could have went up in flames for all he cared. His only concern was her safety.

Chills crept up and down Layla's spine while she inhaled his manly musk and felt his warm breath linger upon the nape of her neck. He seemed fixated on it. He lowered his face until his lips were so close to her skin that her hair bristled. She watched engrossed as his hand rose up slyly. Layla raised her hand at the same time and stroked his fingers just as they met her collarbone. The touch lingered and she roved her hand over his in gentle, loving motions. She turned her head and her lips brushed over his gleaming NSA ring. Layla quickly composed herself. She spun around fast and his hand dropped out of sight. Her movement was so sudden that her face smacked against his. Casey immediately took the chance and grasped her cheeks, enveloping her mouth in a tender kiss before she could pull away.

Layla eventually hung back and clutched the edges of the bureau. She looked at him in shock. Casey's cheeks were inflamed and he offered her his most smoldering gaze.

"Maybe it's the other way around? Maybe…_McNeil_ is falling fast and hard for _Rosa."_

"How long have you desired… to…to do that, John?" She sputtered.

"Since I saw you peel yourself out of that lumpy suit and reveal the true you. How do you think I knew who you were? I can be just as surreptitious as you, Agent Calderon."

Layla gaze followed his to the window. "Oh…so you _surreptitiously_ know how to hide inside mango trees, that's very sneaky."

She smiled warmly at him and it threw him off guard.

"_What?"_

"Agent Calderon? So formal after a kiss like that? Please, call me Layla, and I will call you John."

"I'm usually just called _Casey."_

"But John is your given name…I prefer it. It's more personal. It means, _'God has been gracious.' _"

Casey eyed her gently. "That's what my mother told me. Could you believe _I_ was a preemie? The doctors weren't sure I'd even survive the night. Well anyway, he certainly _has _been gracious."

He moved toward her again for another kiss, but she pushed him back. "Do you always come on this strong?"

"No, I don't know what's gotten into me. Maybe it's the Acapulco heat and all the spicy tortillas I've been eating for the last month."

"Tor-_tee-yas_, John…not 'tor-_till_-as."

Casey found himself returning her smile and he tousled her soft, damp hair.

"Right, you say tomato, I say tomato…you know it doesn't make much sense if you _read_ that phrase."

"Oh well, apples and oranges."

"You and me are more like a pineapple and apple."

"Right…a good old _Washington_ Apple. I prefer a lime…a lime and a coconut."

Casey stopped playing with her hair and laughed. "You look like a coconut, that'll work. But you'll never catch me wearing lime _anything_. Green is just not my color."

Layla looked him up and down. "Funny, but somehow I can picture you in it."

"I promise you, never! Listen, I'm sure they're looking for you out there. Pack it up, we've got a drug lord to catch."

Layla maneuvered herself past him and put the large duffel bag over her good shoulder, but Casey grabbed it from her and tossed it over his.

"What do you mean, '_We?'_ I can come with you? I'm still on the mission? _Que bueno!" _She bounced around.

Excitement bubbled within her. This was the first year since she had started her missions that the CIA was employing all her skills on a covert assignment.

"Down, chica! I just spoke to my new handler, Major General Diane Beckman. She's all work and no play and dry as day old toast. She told me that you could possibly be useful in tracking down Ochoa. We have to try and weed him out any way that we can. He's never seen the _real_ you, so with a little sexy persuasion, we'll have all these drug runners eating out of your hands."

Layla laughed. "You mean _your_ seduction skills aren't good enough? Professor Montgomery will not be pleased!"

Casey stopped walking by the end of the hallway and grunted, facing her.

"I can't believe that prig failed me! If he could have seen me now!"

Layla tugged him closer by the strap of the duffel bag and put her good arm around his neck.

"He'd be forced to give you an 'A.' I have a strong feeling about you, John. You're a real man of mystery, and you don't easily reveal emotions like you just did."

Casey laughed sharply. "What emotions? I was only coming on to you like a bull in heat, and don't think for a minute that I'm finished."

Layla shook her head demurely. "I meant what you revealed to me about your mother and the fact that you were born premature. Tell me, does Diane Beckman know that? Or all the NSA partners you've worked with since you started?"

"Technically, they will if they decide to check my birth records." He mumbled, but he caught the gist of her comment.

"Layla, I don't know why I said that, it was very off the cuff. I just felt like I could…_to you."_

Her tantalizing golden eyes peered into the depth of his psyche and something clicked within his heart. He wanted her to know all of him and he wanted to know her completely. He had never been more enraptured with a woman until just now. The duffel bag slid down his arm and he tossed it to the floor. He swept her against him, and they kissed long and sweet, only drawing back when she winced from the pain in her wounded shoulder.

"Can I ask you to pull your biggest masquerade operation yet?" He sighed into her hair.

Layla rubbed her face against his chest and then looked up at him. "Yes, John. What do I have to do?"

He lifted her chin and carefully searched her eyes for any deception. He found none…only pure attraction.

"Don't tell anyone or make it known how we feel about each other, it will make our lives hell and Beckman will pull you right off the assignment."

Layla considered it and then grinned playfully. "But, John, how _do _we feel about each other?"

Casey pursed his lips, but then they formed a designing smile. "I've got the go ahead to stay in Acapulco for the next week or so to see if we can snuff out Ochoa from here…that's plenty of time for us to find out."

**-Oo-**

"I think he's dreaming, but I hate to be the one to burst that pretty bubble floating over his head right now. He'll shove a poison dart up my nose!" Chuck nudged Sarah. "It's pretty scary…"

"What's scary, Chuck? Aside from this _whole_ hunt?" Sarah replied, shaking out the numbness in her limbs.

"That little smile on his face, it's so unnatural for Casey." Chuck shivered.

"Chuck, come on, be fair. Casey has a cute smile, he just forgot how to use it." Sarah murmured.

"Maybe I should carry around an oil can like Dorothy did for the Tin man. That should work, the man has permanent lock jaw."

"He wasn't always a lock-jaw…he's hot now, but you should have seen him before the dental work too."

Sarah had a quick reflection on the handsome, slack jawed young Casey. She came across his pictures while performing her due diligence and conducting background research into his personnel files. Although he was always the stoic, red blood, she could tell Casey had been much more relaxed and looser in his younger years.

Ten minutes earlier, Casey had stopped marching ahead, leaned his body against a tree and slid down. He was boldly battling fatigue and soreness. He had closed his eyes momentarily allowing the soft hums of the jungle to bring him to a happier place, and then he fell fast asleep. Chuck and Sarah didn't have the heart to wake him. However, Chuck soon gasped and yanked on Sarah's shirtsleeve.

"_Umm_…unless we want Casey to become dinner for that army of red ants about to crawl down his shoulder, we better get him up!" Chuck attempted to rush over.

"Chuck! Don't!"

Sarah tried to stop him. If he woke Casey like a mad man, the Major was liable to blow a hole through Chuck's middle with the shotgun. Chuck didn't have to move any closer. Casey's eyes opened wide and he jumped in the air. He whipped the shotgun off his shoulder and nearly shot down the tree. All it takes for ten seconds and the pincers have you. He grasped his neck and clawed at it, shaking off any clinging fire ants.

"_Aww dammit! _That's gonna leave a few pustules!" A burning sensation seared his neck, but Casey forced himself to ignore it. "Why didn't you warn me, Bartowski?"

Chuck gaped at him and was about to reply, but then clammed up. Did he really want Casey to die like the soldier in Indiana Jones 4? Maybe last year, most definitely the first year they met. There was no sense in arguing. Casey was already on the go again and had forgotten all about it. The trek through this area of the jungle was much easier without all the hidden traps, but the trio kept on constant guard, listening closely to every sound and observing any distinctly different patches of grass or foliage. They eventually came to a clearing within a few yards of the resort. They ducked behind a dense thatch of bushes when they saw a long, white limousine pull up to the entrance of Ochoa's main Villa. Chuck tapped Casey.

"I have to be very careful about all this! The last time I was in the resort I had a flash fainting spell, everyone and their mother here is a Fulcrum Agent."

"So I've heard…too bad we can't put a paper bag over your head, it might be an improvement."

"_Hehhehheh!_ Since when did you ever grace the cover of GQ?"

Sarah knocked them both in the ribs with her elbow. "Guys, cut the crap. Chuck, look at the man getting out of the limo, see if you flash."

Before Chuck could set his sights upon him, they heard Casey mumble a few choice swear words and slap his forehead.

"What happened? Miss a few ants?"

"No, you nimrod! I don't need your flash to tell me anything! It _can't_ be him…"

While Casey stewed over his discovery, Chuck did flash on the bitter faced, tanned, bald man, flanked by four beefy security guards in white suits. They also triggered Chuck's Intersect. His flashes were insidious, violent, grisly, and considering their plight, very depressing.

Casey was ready to take aim, but Sarah lowered his muzzle. "Hold on, you can't just shoot the guy!"

"Why the heck not?" He snarled. "Apparently I missed him the first time! Do you realize who that is? Its…"

"_Emilio Ochoa!_ Damien's older, smarter brother and…"

Casey and Sarah gave Chuck desperate glances and he tossed his head back with a drawn out sigh.

"Second in command of the entire Fulcrum organization."


	14. Priorities

**Chapter 14: Priorities**

"Second in Command! Are you positive, Bartowski? Maybe that little Intersect got itself rattled from all the banging around." Casey snarled, hiding his complete shock.

Chuck just wanted to curl up in the grass and massage his temples for an hour, but now he was weary of biting red ants. Sometimes the flashes got mangled when he was punchy.

"I'm pretty sure! I mean…maybe…maybe second in command of a certain…_sector?_ Given the current economic conditions in the world, the Fulcrum has to protect its funds and assets. That's what this meeting is about. They are all here to talk about the state of their current activities, what they need and how much revenue and _blah, blah blah_… But anyway, _why not?_ Why can't Emilio be in 2nd in command?"

"I'll tell you why not! Because I killed him eighteen years ago! I know I did…He was Ochoa's sniveling accountant, it couldn't be…" Casey felt a soft hand clasp his arm. It was Sarah and she looked at him with urgency.

"Casey, you were in the middle of a shoot-out, things were crazy, and you said you lost your focus because you wanted to save Layla. It's very possible there was a mistake made."

Chuck finally cleared the last few static images from his mind and shook them off. He looked at Casey wryly. "Yeah, Casey. Don't you realize this is the dawn of the geek? We rule the world, don't we? What are you risking your life for with me?"

"That's different, you have all our Government secrets stored in your head."

"And even though I'm a nerd, week in and week out I somehow manage to help you and Sarah save the country and sometimes the world! That counts for something. Let's face it, we're all around you, from accountants to computer programmers…to Buy more retail associates."

"Don't remind me!"

Casey rubbed his eyes; he was also tempted to scratch the skin off his neck because the bites were swelling. Sometimes he imagined his current life was all a bad nightmare. He would wake up in his bed in his cozy one bedroom up in Washington, DC and Beckman and Graham would have never called him in to retrieve the Intersect. He would have went along to work, business as usual. However most days he reflected on this assignment, he wouldn't change all the excitement and espionage for the world.

"Casey, really think hard about it…what exactly happened back there?" Sarah pressed him.

**Flashback: 1991 (Ochoa's mansion)**

Casey nervously twittered his right leg during the proceeding drug negotiations on Ochoa's pool patio. It was one of the few little eccentric habits he had given to his 'Donny' cover, aside from twisting his silver, diamond and sapphire ring and sniffling every five minutes from some unknown allergy or too much coke. His steely eyes watched every move Ochoa's dealers made. They were very calm and greasily collected, dressed in the finest sharkskin suits fit for Acapulco weather and making sure that Donny and his little crew saw the butts of their guns poking from their jackets. Casey eyed Emilio, he sat off to the far left, looking sullen, almost left out. He was too quiet for Casey's liking. Ochoa was a braggart and often poked fun at his boring brother. However, his drug empire wouldn't have been able to survive without Emilio's financial skills.

Ochoa had given Donny the directions to his warehouses, situated along the outskirts of the City and the numbered codes to get within. He had mapped out a section where Donny could start his operations. Casey intently studied them and then passed them to his assistant Vic for confirmation. Vic was actually Major Edward Donatelli, an ex Golden Gloves champion in his youth from Brooklyn, New York. Although Casey was allowed control over the sting, Major Donatelli was watching him like a hawk and giving him pointers. Casey couldn't wait for the day to claim the title of Major. It was a goal he was attentively working his way up to.

Now that the NSA had finally obtained all the vital information they needed to smoke out Ochoa's secret drug stores, it was time to roll in for the collar. Rosa came out to the patio wheeling a cart with brunch and refreshments.

_'She's good.'_ Casey thought. _'She knows something is going down now and just had to be a part of it.'_

Casey forced himself not to pay her too much mind. Her intrusions were no longer a bother to him now that he knew who she really was. It was comical really, but she played the part of a semi-literate maid to the hilt and dutifully carried out her work. He was reminded somewhat of Carol Burnett and her zany characters on her show. Rosa refilled their wine glasses and placed snack bowls of fruits and cheeses before them, humming a frothy Mexican tune the entire time. She kept her resolute eyes dull, as if her mind was in some other world and undisturbed by the discussions around her. Ochoa continued his grandiose talking in minced words and business codes.

Just as Rosa finished serving, three of Ochoa's Mexican Barbies came running out from the mansion screaming in Spanish. The mansion was under 'attack' and the NSA was storming the premises. Ochoa jumped from his chair and his guards with him. He looked Casey straight in the eye with seething hatred.

"This could only be your doing! You aren't a dealer from New York! Who are you?"

"Was my Brooklynese that bad? You're right! We're not. We're NSA and you and your crew are busted!" Casey said with smug authority. He suddenly thought how corny he sounded.

There was no time to be cool and pull out badges. Ochoa snapped and had his men grab for their guns, and then the party really started. Major Donatelli flipped over the patio table, stunning the guards. Other NSA members swarmed onto the patio from the front of the mansion. Casey fired two shots at the most trigger happy of Ochoa's men and dove for cover behind the patio table. Everyone began running in all directions. He peeked out over the table and fired again, ending the reign of two particularly nasty coke smugglers while they raced up the marble steps. With all the shots whizzing through his ears, he didn't hear Emilio Ochoa sneaking up to fire at him. Casey scrambled to his feet; ready to get into the heat of the battle. He ran from behind the table.

"_John!_ Behind you!" He heard Layla scream.

Casey hadn't seen him, but he turned and saw Layla shove her cart straight into Emilio's legs. The accountant tripped up and his gun went off into the sky. He shouted frustrated and landed on the ground. He aimed his gun at Layla and fired. Layla dove to the ground and covered her head, tearing off the prosthetic on her face in the process. Everything was hindering her, from her itchy panty hose to her cumbersome 'fat' suit. Casey was about to help her when he heard Major Donatelli cry out. He had been hit in the chest, but thankfully was wearing his vest. The CIA had suddenly made an entrance and he was taken care of. When Casey turned his attention back to the pool scene, Layla had climbed to her feet and attempted to make an escape. Emilio was off the ground and he fired another shot at her. This time he didn't miss. He laughed and dove behind a marble bust.

Layla screamed as the pain of the bullet ripped into her shoulder and she tripped backwards, falling into the deep end of the pool. Casey shouted angrily and rushed behind the marble bust; Emilio was gone. He raised his eyes and saw a balding man running across the patio in a dark silver sharkskin jacket and aimed. The man he had thought was Emilio was down for good. Casey hurried to the edge of the pool. Layla had not surfaced. He threw off his jacket and dove under the water. She was kicking wildly at the bottom, but going nowhere and trying her best to hold her wound closed. Casey swam alongside her grasped her arm. She jerked away and her foot whacked his groin. He doubled over and grunted, but composed himself and swam in front of her. Layla recognized him and stopped her struggling. She waved her hand wildly near her mouth, signaling she was running out of air.

Casey drew her face close. He held her nose and clamped his mouth over hers, giving her two full breaths. She nodded gratefully and Casey tore at the silicone suit pieces and ripped them off her body. He grabbed her under her good arm and held her tightly against him, then heaved her upward until they broke the surface with large gasps. Layla tossed her good arm over his neck and whimpered into his shoulder.

Casey kissed the top of her head, but realized that comfort would have to come later. He was planning on it. Casey swam her to the edge and pushed her onto the concrete. He threw his leg upon the ledge and hoisted himself out of the water. The shoot out had moved into the mansion, but the NSA was now in control, along with the very disgruntled CIA Agents that poked around the patio. Casey rushed Layla behind the bushes….

**-Oo-**

"How could Emilio have gotten from behind the marble bust and onto the patio that fast, without you seeing him make a run for it?" Chuck asked.

Casey sat on the dirt with his legs askew and he shook his head with a winded defeat.

"Apparently, like you, I was moronic at twenty-nine. I didn't even think about it." He glanced quickly at Sarah and back at Chuck.

"Tell me, would you? If you were in a similar situation?"

Chuck nodded slowly. He knew his first priority would be to save Sarah. He crinkled his nose annoyed. "Thanks for admitting your faux paux there, Casey. I'm glad to know I'm not the only twenty-nine year old moron on the planet."

Casey sighed and stared him down. "You're welcome, unfortunately we all go through a phase, but yours may just last forever."

Casey crawled to his knees, and then stood up. He stretched his arms out as far as they would allow until he heard certain aching bones crack. It was a welcome relief. He huddled with Chuck and Sarah.

"We need a real plan of action. As much as I want to, we can't just storm in there with guns blazing. I don't doubt that everyone inside is armed to the teeth. Layla gave me a signal that the CIA should be heading this way, but they're probably trying to figure out the best course too."

Chuck looked over the Villa again. He had an idea. "I know! Why don't we try and sneak in through that open window over there? It's on the left side. I know it's open. I see the window sheers blowing. Once we're in we can…"

"What could we do, Chuck? We should just wait it out here. The CIA will be coming. There's no need to go in. That would be suicide." Sarah told him.

Chuck stared at Casey determinedly. "Yes, there is. We all have priorities. This one is for Casey."

"You mean for _Layla."_ Casey said quietly.

"Exactly, for _you."_

Chuck turned to his right and scurried away from them, keeping himself concealed within the bushes and behind the trees. Sarah and Casey eventually caught up to him.

"Chuck, no! You're _not_ going in there, that's an order!" Casey demanded.

Chuck saw that the area around the Villa's window was empty. He peered up, trying to see if there were any cameras. He didn't notice one, but he would have to take his chances. He rushed out from the bushes.

"Since when do I always follow orders? I don't carry an NSA badge, you don't have authority over me!"

"_Grrr!_ Get over here, dipstick!"

Casey ran after him, but Chuck was too quick and made it to the window. He peeked inside. It was a giant den, filled with African furnishings and colossal animal heads upon the walls. Strewn on the shiny, wooden floor were all sorts of zebra, leopard and tiger skins with their snarling heads still attached. A unique chess set rested in the center of the room on a gold base with ivory pieces carved in the shape of jungle creatures. They stood about a foot tall. Chuck lifted himself up, but soon felt Casey tugging on the seat of his pants.

"No Casey! Let me get in there! I can find her!" Chuck struggled, trying not to shout.

Casey's strength was waning, and Chuck was grasping for dear life to the window panels along the sides. Chuck hated what he did next. He pumped his leg and kicked Casey across the jaw. Casey gasped and jumped back. He immediately felt his teeth, but they were still intact. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth and his eyes blazed.

"I'm gonna kill you myself!"

Sarah ran up to him to hold him steady. She was furious. "Chuck! I can't believe you! Stop it and get out here, now!"

Chuck tumbled inside the room and leaped up victorious.

"_I made it!_ So far so good! I…"

He heard the sound of static and a recording of Ochoa's voice went off.

"_Welcome!_ I knew at some point one of my hunted animals would find their way in here. Unfortunately, you stepped into yet another of my wonderful traps! You have five minutes to find the key that will release you from this African prison. If you do not… The room will fill with a cloud of toxic Sarin. _Beware!_ There are snares at every turn!"

Steel bolted doors slammed down over the front door to the room. Chuck yelped loudly.

"Oh God! I'm really trapped!"

"Chuck, get outta there! Come on!" Casey shouted. He thrust his arms in to grab for him.

Chuck attempted to dive toward the window, but it was too late. The steel doors slammed down over it, nearly severing Casey's arm. Sarah had pulled him away just in time. She gazed helplessly at the enclosed window and her eyes filled with tears. She grabbed Casey's shirt collar and nearly tore it off.

"Casey! Sarin will kill him in seconds! It only takes one whiff!"

Casey pulled himself off her and glared sadly at the bolted window. He was prepared to storm the Villa now to get Chuck out, but the odds were stacked high against them all. He had to put his confidence in Chuck's skills.

"I know that! I was pretty damn angry when they outlawed it ninety-seven! Sarah, there's not much we can do for him. Ochoa created a puzzle, and that's Chuck's forte. He'll solve it. I know he will!"


	15. Underestimated

**Chapter 15: Underestimated**

Chuck banged against the steel trapping for dear life. He was hoping Casey would somehow smash his fist through it like Colossus from X-men, but there was no response from outside. He finally backed away from the window and noticed a keyhole in its center.

_Four minutes, thirty-five seconds._

Chuck glanced wildly around the room, where in the world would Ochoa stash a single key? He wouldn't find it along the molding, or the edges of the door either. He suddenly heard a scraping noise coming from the closet.

"Oh God! What if he hid a ravenous animal in there? I'm finished!" He said aloud.

He rushed over and put his ear to the door, he was able to make out a muffled female voice. Chuck was about to open the door when he remembered Ochoa's warning about snares. He ducked down low and grasped the knob slowly. The captive woman inside let out a shout when he swung the door open. From above her, a giant arrow situated in a crossbow was released and it struck the opposite wall, leaving a deep crack. Chuck cowered and grasped his head. He peeked inside and saw it was none other than Layla.

Chuck crawled to her and helped her loosen the binds. He removed the gag tied around her mouth.

"Chuck, never mind about me! Find that key! I will get the Sarin canisters!" She whispered frantically and jumped swiftly to her feet. She dragged a large chair to the center of the room and climbed atop, but had to stack a few books in order to reach higher. Chuck watched her momentarily; the spies knew their stuff. The Sarin canisters were located within the air vents.

Chuck bounded to the small mini-bar in the far left corner of the room. He began looking into all the shot glasses. His hand passed over a brass spigot and the spigot automatically lowered itself. Chuck detected the smell of rotten eggs and heard a deep hiss. He leaped atop the counter as every spout across the bar spattered blood-red sulfuric acid like it was stout beer. It burned through the wood in seconds and sent up acrid streams of smoke. Chuck shouted and grasped the bar table. He flung himself over. A few squirts of acid hit his right leg and he tripped onto the floor, writing in pain. Layla jumped down from the chair, and rushed to him. She had just opened the air vent cover.

"Chuck, where are you hurt?"

Chuck whacked his leg, and blew on the steam.

"_Aughh!_ That's killing me! _Arrghh!"_

Layla observed his leg, the fabric had been eaten through and his skin sizzled a bright pink. She winced, but grasped his shoulders. "You have to try and ignore it, Chuck! We need that key, we only have three more minutes!"

Ochoa's recorded voice came back into the room.

"_I don't want you to think I'm not a fair sportsman. I will give you a clue. When I was sailing through Jungle, I taught the natives to read…they also loved a good game of chess. I taught them by the book… that the best strategy was to use the rook."_

Chuck scrambled to his knees and bit down hard on his lip. He had to get them out of there no matter what.

"Layla, hurry and get those canisters! I'm going to find that key if it kills me!"

He crawled to the chess table and slowly reached across to grab the zebra shaped rook. No traps were sprung this time and he tossed his head back in relief. He looked the piece over and then turned it upside down. He found a rolled up scroll and tugged it out.

'_**GOTCHYA! WAY TO EASY!'**_

Chuck crumpled the paper and growled like Casey, prompting a curious look from Layla. She smiled and held up the aluminum canisters. They weren't big, but there was enough Sarin inside to kill hundreds of people.

_Two Minutes._

"Think, moron! _Think!_ He gave you a clue! It's not chess…_reading_…books!"

Chuck raced over to the fine, mahogany Library. He was about to reach for a book when a rattlesnake popped its fanged face out from under the shelf and snapped at him. Chuck staggered back more irritated than scared. He didn't have time for this. He ran to the fireplace and grabbed a poker, then brandished it at the snake until its body was coiled around it.

"I met your cousin earlier today, he was way nicer than you! Watch out, Layla! Snake crossing!"

Chuck sent the snake flying across the middle of the room and it slammed against the steel covering the door. It landed on the floor wounded and slithered away from the giant intruders. Chuck turned back to the books and hurriedly checked all the hardcover volumes. He opened each one, only to come up empty.

"Not Encyclopedias…a novel…something about the Jungle…_The Jungle Book_…no! _The Jungle!_ Upton Sinclair…. dang, that's New York... '_The beast in the Jungle' _by Henry James…sounds like Casey on this hunt."

Chuck's fingers frantically brushed over a worn novel called _'Heart of Darkness'_ and he yanked it down.

"That's it! Joseph Conrad…the main character sailed up and down the Congo! Africa! Natives!"

Chuck opened the book and laughed aloud. The middle of its pages was gutted out and inside laid a shiny, gold key.

"_Aha!_ Layla! I got it!"

"Wonderful, Chuck! Hurry!"

_Forty-Five seconds._

Chuck fumbled with the key, but managed to shove it in the lock and turn it counter clockwise. The steel doors abruptly flew up and the window was exposed again. Chuck was ready to jump out, but Layla tugged him away.

"Watch it! One more trap! John! Sarah! Look out!"

She pushed Chuck down to the floor and a giant iron bar with spikes swung over their heads and smashed the window. Casey and Sarah were biding their time on either side of the window and anxiously waiting. They heard Layla's warning and leaped away from the flying shards of glass.

"Casey! Did he make it?" Sarah gasped.

Chuck pushed out the iron bar and jumped onto the grass, doing a tumblesault. Casey reached in to help Layla, but she passed him the canisters.

"John, throw them as far as you can! You have fifteen seconds, they're on a timer!"

Casey clutched them tightly and ran like a football player about to make a pass. He flung them and each canister sailed across the sky. They watched apprehensively as the gas escaped while it was in mid-air, but it was too far away to do them damage. The canisters landed in the jungle and smashed against a tree.

"Sayonara, ya dirty buggers!" Casey muttered, thinking of all the red ants that were about to undergo a horrible demise.

Casey ran back and Layla fell into his arms from the window. They momentarily forgot their aches and wounds and Casey grinned and swung her around. He lowered her softly and they gazed adoringly at one another, until Casey leaned forward and kissed her passionately. Chuck and Sarah stepped away with large smiles, allowing them their small reunion.

"I'm so glad you made it out, Chuck. I was really scared for you." Sarah admitted.

Chuck tried to be nonchalant, but then the burning sensation of his acid tinged skin attacked him. He bent over and clamped his hand beside his knee. It was definitely going to leave a scar, but it was one Chuck could almost be proud of. Sarah knelt down and unclenched his fingers away from it.

"Oh, Chuck! How did you get burned like this?" Sarah gently blew on the burn and Chuck nearly fell into a stupor.

"_Uh...uh…_it was special on tap tonight. Ladies drink free!…_Ooh..._Sarah, don't stop! It feels so good…" He murmured.

Sarah had to stop and slowly rose up. "I couldn't do that forever, Chuck."

"Why not?"

"Because we need to get the hell out of here first, Bartowski." Casey said. He gripped Layla's hand tightly.

"John, we should head toward the cliffs, the CIA will be sending reinforcements with stealth choppers." Layla told them.

"Good idea, come on."

The foursome clamored away from the Villa but they didn't get far. Ochoa stood before them with a long line of bodyguards on either side of him. He was not a happy hunter. His prey had outwitted him time and again and he was about to draw the hunt to a close.

"I see I have also underestimated this Buy More geek!"

Chuck wearily raised a finger. "Actually I prefer the term _nerd_, seeing as I work in the 'Nerd Herd' sector of the…_facility…"_

A bullet ripped from one of the shotguns and nearly blasted his foot off. Chuck jumped high in the air and then instinctively ducked behind Casey.

"Geek is good! You should see me bite the heads off chickens!"

"You underestimate everything, you psychopath. This hunt had no purpose. You secretly wanted us to live…or at least me. You just wanted me to suffer, if I died…I died…but I'll tell you something, it takes a lot more than a few slings and arrows to keep me down!" Casey sneered.

"Not to mention snakes, shot guns and red ants!" Chuck bellowed in support. Casey closed his eyes resignedly, but then continued. "It's no wonder your brother survived! I told you Emilio was the brains in your clan. If he had died, you'd probably be rotting somewhere in a Mexican sewer system."

Ochoa's eyes widened furiously. "I have done quite well on my own! I don't need Emilio!_ Men!_ Take them away! They want to go to the cliffs–then the cliffs are where they shall go…up and _off! _But as for the geek, he stays alive!"


	16. Cliffhanger

**Chapter 16: Cliffhanger**

Despite that everyone looked as though they were hit by trucks, and probably felt that way, Chuck had complete confidence that Casey, Sarah, and Layla would be able to defeat Ochoa's guards. He on the other hand, was trapped. He felt doomed to spend his final moments in a posh resort and tortured with the threat of eating tacos for life while he spilled all the Intersect secrets to Fulcrum's financial adviser, Emilio Ochoa. His fate did not look promising…the worst of it was never seeing his family and friends again, and never seeing Sarah. That was an unfathomable notion.

Ochoa marched behind him, every so often shoving a pistol against his lower back. He remained deadly silent, and was no doubt fuming over being foiled again and again by Major Casey and his team. Chuck had to keep his hands raised alongside his head as they made their way to the resort.

"So…_uh_…I take it we're going to see the head honcho, right?" Chuck made small talk. It was the wrong choice of words. The pistol dug deeper against his ribcage and he yelped.

_"Head_ honcho? This is _my_ resort! I'm in charge here! No one else! _Remember that!"_ Ochoa snarled.

He dragged Chuck through a side entrance and into the jungle themed room. Three men were waiting inside; Emilio and two burly bodyguards were staunchly seated beside him in zebra skin chairs. Emilio stood up and held out his arms with a deep, malevolent grin. The brothers resembled each other, save for Damien's full head of hair.

_"Aha!_ You did get him! I knew I could count on you for something, Damien! I cannot believe all the secrets of the world are stored in this white nerd's brain."

"Would it have been better if I were a _Mexican_ nerd?" Chuck muttered, imagining Pedro from 'Napoleon Dynamite' with an Intersect in his dull mind.

Emilio narrowed his eyes. "I don't care where you are from. The important thing is we finally tracked you down! Who knew you were in the hands of an old pal of ours…well, he was more a buddy to Damien, right? It's a shame he got that woman, she was a hot one."

Chuck watched bemused as Emilio put an arm over his brother's shoulder and Damien wriggled uncomfortably but smiled. There was definite sibling rivalry here and no doubt Emilio held the reigns. In the back of his mind he conjured a fantasy that if he pitted them against one another, he might have a chance to escape. Chuck laughed nervously, and put on his most innocent appearance.

"Obviously, you think I'm very valuable, Mr. Ochoa…good thing old Damien here didn't kill me with the Sarin gas! He tried though. Right in this booby-trapped room!" He pointed to one of the guards. "I'd look out if I were you, he may have a big scorpion pop out and bite your butt or something."

The guard looked around nervously and stood up. Chuck continued his tirade. He was on a roll now.

"I made it out with mere _seconds_ to spare…well, if that gas didn't kill me, that crazy hunt he had us on before that could have! I'm happy I'm still in one piece. Snakes, tigers, tarantulas, poison arrows! He nearly had my head shot off a few times. I could have broken every bone soaring down a hill on a tabletop. Ooh, and the collapsing dam! That was fun! Good thing I had _NSA Major _Casey and_ CIA Agent _Walker watching my back."

Emilio's eyes lit up like flares and he snarled. His grip around his brother tightened. Damien glared at Chuck venomously, but kept silent.

"He did _what?_ You tried to kill the most valuable asset in the world? Are you insane? Are you getting high again? Do you realize what you could have done?" Emilio ranted.

He backhanded Damien in the face and shoved him into a chair. "All I told you to do was get him down here! Not play your stupid jungle tricks! You could have ruined me!"

Damien stood up to his brother, but refrained from hitting back. "You never tell me anything, Emilio! How was I supposed to know your plans? Did you think I wasn't hungry for revenge either? You should be fortunate you even have a meeting place for all these criminals! Do you realize how much heat is on me, especially now?" Damien pouted.

"_You fool!_ You did that to yourself, endangering the life of a NSA Major and CIA Agent! And Casey of all people! Now I find out you nearly poisoned a major Government asset! _Gahh!_ _Ay dios mio!_ I should have killed you long ago, but I made a promise to Mami to always take care of you! Her precious, little, spoiled son!" Emilio spewed.

Chuck took a few steps away from the growing feud and kept his eye on the door. Damien had left it ajar. Emilio's guards were too engrossed in the brothers to pay attention. However, he couldn't make his move. Emilio stormed over to him and grasped his arm.

"You are coming with me. I have a hundred or so friends that would _kill _to meet you!"

Chuck gulped loudly. He was about to put on display at the Fulcrum convention. Who knew what horrible tactics they would do to him then. He glanced at Damien, he didn't know why, but he felt that somehow he could garner a little support. Damien was gazing at the ceiling vent where Layla had removed the Sarin canisters before the timer went off. Damien clasped his hands behind his back and humbly remained at his desk with a phony and remorseful smile Chuck knew he had practiced for years on his older brother.

"I am sorry for all this. You have this…_asset_…now…and the others are being taken care of at the cliffs. No one will know of this. Enjoy your meeting, Emilio. We will continue discussions later."

"Yes we will, Damien." Emilio snapped at his men to follow along. Chuck caught Damien's eye again and held back a gasp. He just now caught on to his plans and he knew that if he didn't escape, he would be part of the massive death trap.

**-Oo-**

The trek up to the cliffs was short. As they approached the edge, Ochoa's hunters shoved Casey, Sarah and Layla to their knees.

"Put your hands behind your heads, the same way you humiliated our friends!" The leader of them growled. "Better yet, lay flat out on the ground! This is going to be a fine execution, after that, we will feed your carcasses to the sharks!"

Casey eyed the women, and counted the cost of a direct attack. The three hunters stood directly behind each of them and held large shotguns aimed and ready to fire. Layla was the weakest link. Her fighting skills did not quite match Sarah's. He caught Sarah's gaze and she nodded. They all lay still. Layla stared at Casey for what she thought was the last time and softly smiled.

"Thank you, John." She whispered.

"Don't thank me yet!"

Casey and Sarah thrust out their legs at the same moment, sending the hunters behind them barreling into the middle one that hovered over Layla. Casey rolled onto his back and slammed his boots against the large one's chest, and he went sprawling to the ground. Layla scrambled to get one of the fallen shotguns and Sarah leaped to her feet and pummeled the hunter behind her. Layla swung the shotgun at the stocky hunter who had her captive. He grasped it and yanked her toward him. She raised her knee and knocked him in the groin. He doubled up in pain, but then surprised her when he rushed forward. Layla was thrown backwards and slipped over the edge. She threw out her arms to catch herself. Her body slammed against the rocks and she frantically clung to one for dear life. She had the wind knocked out of her and shooting pains racked her body. She was slipping.

"_John!_ Help me!" She screamed.

Casey knocked out the brutal hunter with an elbow to the jaw. His face contorted with terror as he saw his beloved fall over the cliff. He raced toward her. The hunter who pushed her tried to block him with haphazard punches. Casey ducked them and grabbed him by his belt and collar. He furiously lifted him in the air with his final ounces of strength. Casey tossed him over the precipice and then staggered to his knees. He lowered half his body down and groped for Layla with both arms.

"Hold on, baby! I've got you!" He grasped her right arm. "You have to let go of the rock and grab onto me!"

Layla squeezed her eyes shut after peering down at the jagged bottom. She had to grab him now or else she would die. She shakily removed her hand from the crevice and clutched Casey's forearm.

"That's good! Now the other arm!"

Sarah crawled to the edge and lowered herself down beside Casey. "I can help! Layla, grab my arm with your other hand, we'll both pull you up!"

As she said this, they all heard the soothing sound of propellers beating the wind in the distance. The CIA was coming in. Layla followed their directions and soon they were raising her up to solid ground. The black helicopters drew closer, blowing up the dirt and grass as they hovered over the trio for a landing.

**-Oo-**

Chuck was forcibly dragged toward a large set of auditorium doors with golden handles. Behind it, over a hundred Fulcrum members anxiously awaited the start of the meeting. His mouth was dry and his spine tingled with fear. His mind begged his body to stay calm, but he struggled under Emilio's grip and planted his feet staunchly on the floor, doubling over and pulling backward.

"I'm not going in there! You'll have to kill me first!"

"Once we figure out how to obtain those secrets in that brain, we will!" Emilio threatened. "Get up!"

"_No!"_

"Get up!"

"_No!"_ Chuck resisted, and finally was able to free himself from Emilio's iron-like vise. He landed on his behind with a thud.

Emilio stiffened and wiped down his suit. "I don't have time for this nonsense! I have to start my part at the meeting. You men take him down, knock him out if you have to, but _don't_ kill him, and bring him inside!" He turned on his heels and went into the auditorium.

Chuck scrambled away from them on all fours and skidded across the tiles. He raced to a set of double doors that led into the foyer and closer to his freedom. He ran smack into Damien Ochoa who raised a dart gun directly at him. Chuck yelped and ducked, and Ochoa fired, poisoning the guards that chased him. They instantly fell to the floor. He grabbed Chuck by his collar and tugged him to his feet.

"Don't kill me! I'm valuable!" Chuck begged.

"I'm going to save you first…and then figure out what to do with you! If my brother says you are so unique, then I must believe him. In less than five minutes this entire auditorium will be inundated with high concentrations of Sarin gas. The only safe place to be now is the cliffs."

"Then I'm out of here!"

Chuck pushed Ochoa out of his way and ran for his life out of the resort in the direction Casey and the others were taken. Ochoa jumped into his jeep and drove up beside him.

"Get in the jeep! It's faster!"

Chuck had no choice but to trust him. As he climbed inside, he heard startled, angry shouts that quickly developed into moans of pure agony from the resort. He was tempted to cover his ears, but he didn't want to look any more childish. They were all dying inside, slow and torturously. Despite the fact that they were Fulcrum and would kill him in the blink of an eye, Chuck felt a deep sadness in the pit of his stomach. He peeked at Damien, who shook his head and smiled evilly.

"It's quite a way to go, isn't it? Convulsions, paralysis, loss of bowel movements, vomiting, seizures, and blindness…the list goes on and on…and in the concentration I used, within five minutes, they die. Now I no longer have that bossy stinking brother on my back! I am free!"

Ochoa glared at Chuck. "I also have _you!_ You are going to tell me everything about this special instrument inside your mind and you will be my captive for as long as I choose! Your friends are long gone!"

As they drew nearer to the hill, Chuck gaped at the helicopters. He wondered if the CIA came too late. He seriously wanted to cry his eyes out, but decided to keep brave for Sarah and even Casey's sake. Chuck wiped his tears and held his head, until he heard Ochoa let out a loud cry of anger.

"No! They are supposed to be dead! This is not possible!"

Chuck's head flew up and he released a gasping laugh. Casey, Sarah and Layla were still alive. Layla was already in a helicopter and Casey and Sarah were heading out to the resort with a team of CIA officials armed to the teeth.

"They're coming for me!" Chuck shouted. He glanced at Ochoa, and in a fit of desperation, grabbed the wheel.

"_NO!_ You imbecile! Let go!"

The jeep swerved left to right. Chuck blasted the horn to alert the others and they changed direction. Chuck couldn't let them come closer; he didn't know how far the Sarin gas would travel.

"Casey! Sarah! Stay back! He released Sarin gas at the resort!"

Ochoa leaped out of the jeep and Chuck slammed the brakes. He was very close to the edge of the cliff and Ochoa was making chase. He looked up at the helicopter; Layla called out to him and released a ladder down to him.

The helicopter pulled in closer and Chuck had to make a running leap and grab for the rungs. He heard Sarah scream his name and he shouted with relief when he caught it. He tried to climb, but suddenly Ochoa jumped after him and grasped onto his waist.

"I will not let you get away from me!" He seethed and tried to pull him off.

"Damien! You maniac! Let him go! Michael, lower the chopper!" Layla screamed and tried to reach down for Chuck.

Casey and Sarah rushed to the cliff and observed anxiously. They both had the same idea and grabbed the weapons out of the CIA Agents hands. They fired at Ochoa in unison.

"Got him!" Casey shouted.

"No, _I _got him!" Sarah retorted.

"Are you crazy? That was a clean shot, dead center!"

"No, you need glasses, old man! Your shot hit him the lower rib cage, and _mine_ hit the heart!" Sarah argued.

Casey growled and looked at the CIA Agents. They shrugged and pointed to Sarah. Casey kicked the dirt and grunted, but then smiled at her.

"Alright, Walker. We _both_ got him. Now we have to get that moron!"

Chuck was nearly losing his grip on the ladder, when he felt Ochoa become dead weight beneath him. His hold around his legs went slack and Chuck looked down in shock as Ochoa fell to his demise in the ocean. Chuck wrapped his arms through the rungs and refused to move a muscle until it safely landed onto the cliffs again. Layla jumped off and ran to Casey and Chuck sank to the ground and kissed it. Sarah raced alongside him and pulled him up gently.

"Chuck! You made it out! What happened?"

Chuck laid his head upon her shoulder. "Ochoa…he double crossed his brother. They might all be dead in the resort. It has to…to air out. Ochoa wanted to escape with me because he learned about the Intersect." He whispered. "Please…just…just get me _home._ I'm going to be sick."

Sarah helped him to a standing position and Casey came up beside him. He actually let Chuck lean upon him and had to hold him up until he was carefully seated in the chopper. He didn't say it, but he was very proud of the nerd. He patted his back and looked at Sarah.

"Walker, you go with him in this one. I'll be with Layla."

"Sure, Casey. We'll see you in Burbank."


	17. Old school elegance

**Chapter 17: Old school elegance**

Chuck heard someone enter his bedroom, but he was too exhausted to even see who it was. He did note that they used the door. The window was now a revolving door into his private world and he no longer had solitude. He imagined it was Ellie checking up on him. Since he returned from the resort, she had been playing nursemaid to him. Chuck didn't quite go with Casey's 'extreme sports' excuse; he didn't want Devon on his back and offering pearls of athletic wisdom. He just wasn't in the mood for anyone. Chuck made up an elaborate story about a fun-filled 'Island hunt' that went a little awry. Ellie and Devon bought it, especially after seeing the condition Sarah was in. They were much more concerned about the gas leak that reportedly had forced everyone to evacuate the resort. The truth wasn't so pretty. By the time the Sarin gas had dissipated, Chuck and the rest were in a CIA chopper and on their way to freedom. The brother's feud had come to a deadly finish, and neither escaped death this time.

The pungent scent of alcohol and peroxide wafted toward him and he shuddered as a damp rag gently brushed over the cuts and scrapes healing on his face. He rolled over to find Sarah sitting alongside him. He cracked a weak smile.

"Hello, Florence Nightingale."

"Penny for your thoughts, Chuck?" She asked quietly.

"I don't think my piggy bank is big enough." He murmured.

The deep sadness in his eyes tore at her heart. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know he was having a mental upheaval. Despite the fact that most of the dead were dangerous Fulcrum agents, the innocent resort staff had paid the price as well. For her, Casey, and Layla, it was unfortunately all part of the game. You win some, you lose some, but the ultimate triumph was for the greater good. Fulcrum had become one hundred odd members short. Fulcrum was going to be on the rampage now. Beckman confirmed her suspicions. She warned her and Casey to keep on their toes more than ever.

Sarah put down the cloth and leaned over to fluff his pillows. Chuck inhaled her sweet perfume with a soft sigh of relaxation. He struggled to sit up a little higher and she helped him until he was against the headboard.

"Thanks. You don't have to do this. I'm feeling better. The leg is healing up too. I can take it…I'm a spy now, aren't I?"

"I think Casey would have something to say about that, but, you might as well be."

"Yeah, something along the lines of Inspector Clouseau and Frank Drebin, but still a spy!"

Sarah chuckled and gazed around the room. There was something eating away at her since they arrived at the resort. This time Chuck played mind reader. He clutched her hand.

"Now that this adventure is over, I think we need to talk a little about…_certain _aspects of this mission."

"Such as?"

"Such as our undercover kiss…and what I planned to say in the room before the churros knocked me out."

Sarah gazed fondly at him, but shook her head. "Chuck, it was what it was, we were playing roles and it got carried a little too far."

"Sarah why do you always try to stifle the obvious?"

Sarah stood up and paced around the bed. "Chuck, I'm not stifling anything. You said what needed to be said before this mission. You're crazy about me. I know that…and I also know my feelings for you, but…"

"There is always a _'but' _or a condition to your feelings, Sarah! Can't we just say _it_ already?"

Sarah fought back tears and swallowed hard. "No, Chuck! We can't! And please don't tell me what you were going to say before we were drugged. I…_I already know."_

Chuck swung his legs over the bed in a little pain, but stood up and crossed over to where she was standing by his Tron poster. He glared at her and grasped her shoulders.

"Then tell me! Tell me what you think about it. Tell me what you know!"

Sarah looked away from him and bit her lip; she had never felt more helpless than now. Chuck's assertiveness was coming to the forefront more and more with every new mission and it was highly attractive. His hand grazed her cheek and gently raised her face upward. He leaned down and kissed her. Sarah forced herself not to fall into it, but Chuck was too sincere. The embrace was long and sweet. She finally drew her lips away and hugged him close. She took a deep breath, but then shook her head sullenly.

"I've already compromised you enough, Chuck. I can't do that anymore. I'm so sorry."

Chuck felt his heart deflate and his eyes glazed with sadness. He was hoping this would have been the moment of truth from her, and his chance to reveal even stronger emotions. He was wrong. His whole life was one big compromise. He dropped his hands from her cheeks and started back toward the bed. He flopped on it and stared up at her thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry too, Sarah. I'm sorry I allowed myself to become emotionally attached to someone who can't share the same sentiments. My feelings are not going to change anytime soon, you can bet on that. It is what it is. But I'll play the Government's game for as long as they need me. After all, I'm just an asset."

Sarah's expression grew dismayed and she tried to approach him. "Chuck, you are more than that and you know it…you mean so much more to me…"

Chuck held up his hand. "No, it's okay. I understand. I'll be fine. You can go now."

Sarah quietly did as he requested and climbed out of the window. Chuck rushed up and watched her continue despondently beyond the courtyard gates. He knew it. She _did_ share the same sentiments, but the life they presently shared was one word and one word only_._

_Complicated._

**-Oo-**

The sun leisurely sank into the horizon in a spectacular burst of orange and red flames that turned the sky vivid hues of pink and purple. Casey and Layla stared quietly and allowed the force of nature to overpower them for a serene moment. Casey had his arms wrapped around her and she sat comfortably between his legs. They rested on a quilt near the shoreline. He lowered his chin onto her shoulder and she leaned her head toward his cheek. He kissed her temple, then her jaw. She smiled softly. The two had done just as Casey desired, and spent hours talking with absolute honesty about the direction their lives had taken in the last eighteen years. Casey still couldn't reveal Chuck's secret of the Intersect, not just because it was strict orders, but he truly cared for Layla's safety. This was especially after she dropped the next bombshell he was sort of expecting.

"Jon, I'll be going back to Washington in a few days to resign. I can't keep up with this life anymore. I want to retire on a quiet Island…maybe somewhere in Hawaii or Maui…and possibly open my own beach shop and make jewelry or art prints…I was always creative like that. Art was one of my first loves. You've seen some and liked them, remember?" She rambled on, tears filling her dark eyes. "Oh, John…no more covers, no more prosthetic and disguises…I just…I just want to be_ me!"_

Layla lowered her face into her hands and bent forward, rocking with tears. Casey knew the final outcome of this crazy adventure shook her to the core, but she had been playing bold the entire trip home. He watched her briefly; she seemed so small and helpless before him. He reached out for her and she turned and collapsed against his chest. He calmly stroked her hair. Something very few people realized about John Casey was that under certain circumstances, he allowed himself to be a sincere comforter. In their time together, Layla had learned that when situations took dangerous turns.

"You always had the right stuff for this job, but too much heart. Not everyone in this line of business is a calculating killer...uh, present company excluded...but you used your skills to the Government's advantage and that was all you could do. It's alright, baby, you'll be fine, wherever you go."

Layla raised her eyes weakly. "I know that, but I don't want to leave you behind, not after all this time, John."

Casey's eyes misted over. Every moment with Layla invoked raw emotions within him. "I don't want to leave you either, but right now I can't compromise my position. My team needs me."

Layla caressed his face. "The world needs you, right? I understand how important this secret assignment is. Eighteen years ago it was a very bitter pill to swallow when we parted, but now I'm content in knowing that…"

"That I still love you?_ I do love you." _Casey sighed into the breeze. It was becoming much easier to admit.

"Yes, John Casey…and _I _still love you."

Layla turned her attention back to the waves and Casey massaged the nape of her neck. She cocked her head and glanced up at him with a sly smile.

"I love when you do that…_sugar bear."_ She purred in a deep Russian accent. Casey drew back a little startled.

"_Hey!_ Where did that come from?"

"The Russian spy seduction course I taught...every nation has different tactics." She teased and winked. "Don't you realize that I teach these women everything they know?"

Casey laughed aloud and they fell back on the quilt in a tight embrace.

"Are you sure about this? What about semi-retirement? Go back to teaching, we need your old school elegance with our new breed of women, they just don't get it. They all want to be Sarah Connors and Rambo rolled into one." Casey prodded her.

"Now I understand why you fell for my student, _Ilsa_…wasn't that name inspired?"

"Come to think of it, I remember catching you crying in the middle of the night watching Casablanca at one of the hotels. I should have put it together."

"Everyone cries at Casablanca." Layla chuckled and kissed him again. She stroked her fingers across his chest.

"I also have my trade secrets. _Old school elegance?_ That sounds so eighties, John. I've long retired the hair sprayed bangs and slinky red dresses with poufy sleeves."

_"Ehh_…but you still looked so hot! According to Beckman, I'm still stuck in the eighties anyway."

"Yes…I'm sure Reagan would have agreed."

Casey playfully tickled her. "So, what's your answer? Retirement?"

Layla jumped up and stretched. She was slowly having a change of heart.

"I'll let you know. I've had enough chatter to last a long while." She kissed him tenderly. "First, you have to serenade me…you _know_ where to stop." She teased and casually strolled up ahead.

Casey licked his lips and followed after her, dragging the blanket like a love-struck teenager. She wasn't going anywhere just yet.

"I have a feeling it will be much sooner than _'ease.'_ " He rushed up to her and kept his arm around her waist.

"Like I said, John…you'll know."

Casey grinned and they trekked up to his car. "That's my girl. I know I will."

**The End. **


End file.
